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THE PRIVATE LIFE 



OF 



MARIE ANTOINETTE 

» - — -— -^ 

QUEEN OF FRANCE AND NAVARRE 

WITH 

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES OE THE COURT 
OF LOUIS XVI. 



BY 

JEANNE LOUISE HENRIE'lTE CAMPAN 

FIRST LADY IN-WAITING TO THE QUEEN 




WITH PORTRAITS ON STEEL 



S C R I B N 



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CONTENTS 

Preface by the Author . . . . Page xiii 

Memoir of Madame Campan . . . . xix 

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER 

The Court of Louis XV. — His character — The King's debotter — Char- 
acters of Mesdames his daughters — Retreat of Madame Louise to 
the Carmehtes of Saint Denis — Madame du Barry — The Court 
divided between the party of Due de Choiseul and that of the Due 
d'Aiguillon ..... Pages 1-17 

CHAPTER I 

Birth of Marie Antoinette attended by a memorable calamity — Maria 
Theresa's character — Education of the Archduchesses — Preceptors 
provided for Marie Antoinette by the Court of Vienna — Preceptor 
sent her by the Court of France — Abbe de Vermond — Change in 
the French Ministry — Cardinal de Rohan succeeds Baron de Bre- 
teuil as Ambassador at Vienna — Portrait of that prelate 18-27 

CHAPTER H 

Arrival of the Archduchess in France — Brilliant reception of the 
Dauphiness at Versailles— She charms Louis XV. — Madame du 
Bai-ry's jealousy — Court intrigues — The Dauphin — His brothers 
and their wives . . . . . 28-43 



vi CONTENTS 



CHAPTER III 

Death of Louis XV. — Picture of the Court — Madame du Barry dis- 
missed—Departure of the Court to Choisy — M. de Maurepas 
Minister — Conduct of the Abbe de Vermond . Pages 44-53 



CHAPTER IV 

Influence of example upon the courtiers — Enthusiasm raised by the new 
reign — Mourning at La Muette — The Queen — The King and the 
Princes, his bi'others, are inoculated — Stay at Marly — Calumnies 
against the Queen — Boehmer, the jeweller — Mademoiselle Bertin 
— Changes of fashion — Simplicity of the Court of Vienna — 
Extreme temperance, decorum, and modesty of Marie Antoinette — 
The code of service — Public dinners — The Queen's wardrobe — 
Her toilette — Daily routine — Hearing Mass . . 54*73 



CHAPTER V 

Examination of the papers of Louis XV. by Louis XVI. — Man in the 
iron mask — The late King's interest in certain financial companies 
— Representation of Iphigenia in Aulis — The King gives Petit 
Trianon to* the Queen — The Archduke Maximilian's journey to 
France — Questions of precedence — Misadventure of the Archduke 
— Accouchement of the Comtesse d' Artois — The poissardes cry out 
to the Queen to give heirs to the throne — Death of the Due de la 
Vauguyon — Portrait of Louis XVI. ; of the Comte de Provence ; 
of the Comte d'Artois — Annex . . . 74-90 



CHAPTER VI 

Severe winter — The Princesse de Lamballe appointed superintendent 
of the household — The Comtesse Jules de Polignac appears at 
Court — M. de Vaudreuil — Due and Duchesse de Duras — 
Fashionable games , . . . . 91-102 



CONTENTS vii 



CHAPTER VII 

The Due de Choiseul returns to Court — The Queen obtains a pension 
of 1 200 francs for Chamfort — She invites Gluck to France and 
patronises music — Encouragement given to the art of printing — 
Turgot — M. de Saint Germain — Amusements at Court — Particu- 
lars of the household — Masked balls at the opera — The Queen 
goes there vciz. fiacre; slanderous reports — The heron plume — 
The Due de Lauzun — the Queen's attachment to the Princesse de 
Lamballe and the Duchess de Polignac — Anecdote of the Abbe 
de Vermond .... Pages 103- 118 



CHAPTER VIII 

Joseph XL's visit to France — His reception at the opera — Fite given to 
him by the Queen at Trianon — The Queen enceinte — Voltaire's 
return to Paris — Duel between the Comte d'Artois and the Due de 
Bourbon — Return of the Chevalier d'Eon to France — Particulars 
relative to his missions, and the causes of his disguise — Night 
promenades upon the terrace of Trianon — Couplets against the 
Queen — Indignation of Louis XVI. — Birth of Madame — Annex 

119-139 

CHAPTER IX 

Public rejoicings — Death of Maria Theresa ; the Queen's affliction — 
Anecdotes of Maria Theresa — Birth of the Dauphin — Bankruptcy 
of the Prince de Guemenee — The Duchesse de Polignac is 
appointed governess of the children of France — ^Jealousy of the 
Court — Mode of life at Trianon — Presumption of the Due de 
Fronsac — American War — Franklin — M. de La Fayette — Order 
for admitting none but gentlemen to the rank of officer — Spirit of 
the Third Estate . . . . .140-161 

CHAPTER X 

Visit of the Grand Duke of Russia and his Duchess to France — Enter- 
tainment and supper at Trianon — Cardinal de Rohan — Cold 



viii CONTENTS 



reception given to Comte d'Haga (Gustavus III., King of 
Sweden) — Peace with England — The English flock into France 
— Conduct to be observed at Court — Mission of the Chevalier de 
Bressac to the Queen — Court of Naples — Queen Caroline — The 
Minister Acton — Debates between the Courts of Naples and 
Madrid — Insolent reply of the Spanish Ambassador to Queen 
Caroline — Interference of France — MM. de Segur and de Castries 
appointed ministers through the Queen's influence — Treachery of 
M. de Maurepas towards M. Necker — Appointment of M. de 
Calonne — Observations of Marie Antoinette Pages 1 62- 179 



CHAPTER XI 

The Queen is dissatisfied with the appointment of M. de Calonne — 
Acts of benevolence — Purchase of Saint Cloud — Regulations of 
internal police — State of France — Beaumarchais — Marriage of 
Figaro — Character of M. de Vaudreuil . . 180-190 



CHAPTER Xn 

The diamond necklace — Account of Boehmer the jeweller — His inter- 
view with Madame Campan — The Cardinal de Rohan interrogated 
in the King's Cabinet— Particulars relative to Madame de Lamotte 
and her family— Steps taken by the Cardinal's relations — The 
prosecution — The dergy remonstrate — Decree of the Parliament 
— The Queen's grief^Remark of Louis XVI. . 19 1-2 10 



CHAPTER XIII 

The Archbishop of Sens is appointed to the Ministry — The Abbe de 
Vermond's joy on the occasion — The Queen is obliged to take a 
part in business — Money sent to Vienna contrary to her inclination 
— Anecdotes— The Queen supports the Archbishop of Sens in 
office— Public rejoicings on his dismissal — Opening of the States- 
General— Cries of " Vive leDuc d' Orleans ./"—Their eff'ect upon 



CONTENTS IX 



the Queen — Mirabeau — He requests an embassy — Misfortunes in- 
duce the Queen to yield to superstitious fears — Anecdotes — Pre- 
judices of the provincial deputies of the tiers-etat — Causes of these 
prejudices — Death of the first Dauphin — Anecdotes — Annex 

Pages 211-226 

CHAPTER XIV 

"Oath of the Tennis Court" — Insurrection of the 14th of July — The 
King goes to the National Assembly — Anecdotes — Spectacle pre- 
sented by the courtyards of the Chateau of Versailles — Report 
that the National Assembly is threatened — The King's speech 
rebutting these suspicions — Anecdotes — Disposition of the troops 
— Departure of the Comte d'Artois, the Prince de Conde, and the 
Due and Duchesse de Polignac — The latter is recognised by a 
postilion, who saves her — The King goes to Paris — Alarm at 
Versailles- — The Queen determines to go to the National Assembly 
— Speech prepared by her — The King's return — Bailly's speech 
— Assassination of Messieurs Foulon and Berthier — Plans pre- 
sented by Foulon to the King for arresting the progress of the 
Revolution — Remark by Barnave — His repentance . 227-239 



CHAPTER XV 

Creation of the national guard — Departure of the Abbe de Vermond 
— The Queen desires Madame Campan to portray his character — 
The French guards quit Versailles — Entertainment given by the 
Body Guards to the regiment of Flanders — The King, the Queen, 
and the Dauphin are present at it — Proceedings of the 5th and 6th 
of October — Detestable threats against the Queen — Devotion 
of one of the Body Guard — The life of Marie Antoinette in danger 
— The Queen is required to appear on the balcony — The royal 
family repair to Paris — Residence at the Tuileries — Change of 
feeling — The Queen applauded with enthusiasm by the women of 
the populace — Private life — Ingenuous observations of the 
Dauphin — It is proposed that the Queen shall quit her family and 
France — Her noble refusal — She devotes herself to the education 
of her children — Picture of the Court — Anecdote of Luckner — 
Exasperated state of feeling .... 240-264 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER XVI 

Loyalty of M. de Favras — His prosecution and death — His children 
are imprudently presented to the Queen — Plan laid for carrying off 
the royal family — Singular letter from the Empress Catherine to 
Louis XVI. — The Queen is unwilling to owe the re- establishment 
of the throne to the emigres — Death of the Emperor Joseph 11. — 
First negotiation between the Court and Mirabeau — Louis XVL 
and his family inhabit Saint Cloud — New plans for escaping 

Pages 265-276 



CHAPTER XVH 

First Federation — Attempts to assassinate the Queen — Affecting scene 
— Account of the affair of Nancy, written by Madame Campan, 
at night, in the council chamber, by the King's dictation — Madame 
Campan becomes the subject of calumnious denunciation — Marks 
of confidence bestowed upon her by the Queen — Interview be- 
tween the Queen and Mirabeau in the gardens of Saint Cloud — 
He treats with the Court — Ridicule of the revolutionary party — 
Stones of the Bastille offered to the Dauphin — The Queen feels 
her aversion to M. de La Fayette increase — Plan formed by the 
Princes for re-entering France through Lyons — Imprudence of 
persons attached to the Queen — Anecdote relative to M. de La 
Fayette — Departure of the King's aunts— Death of Mirabeau 

277-289 



CHAPTER XVHI 

Preparations for the Journey to Varennes — The Queen watched and 
betrayed — Madame Campan's departure for Auvergne precedes 
that of the royal family for Versailles — Madame Campan hears of 
the King's arrest — Note written to her by the Queen immediately 
upon her return to Paris — Anecdotes — Measures taken for keeping 
the King at the Tuileries — Barnave gains the esteem and con- 
fidence of Marie Antoinette during the return from Varennes — 



CONTENTS XI 



His honourable and respectful conduct — She contrasts it with that 
of Petion — Braveiy of Barnave — His advice to the Queen — Par- 
ticulars respecting the Varennes journey . Pages 290-314 



CHAPTER XIX 

Acceptance of the constitution — Opinion of Barnave and his friends 
approved by the Court of Vienna — Secret policy of the Court— 
The Legislative Assembly deliberates upon the ceremony to be 
observed on receiving the King — Offensive motion — Louis XVI. 
is received by the Assembly with transport — He gives way to pro- 
found grief when with his family — Public fetes and rejoicings — 
M. de Montmorin's conversation with Madame Campan upon the 
continual indiscretions of the people about the Court — The royal 
family go to the Theatre Frangais — Play changed — Personal 
conflicts in the pit of the Italiens — Double correspondence of the 
Court with foreign powers — Maison Civile — The Queen's mis- 
fortunes do not alter the sweetness of her disposition — Method 
adopted by the Queen respecting her secret correspondence — 
Madame Campan's conduct when attacked by both parties — 
Particulars respecting M. Genet, her brother, charge cTaffatres 
from France to Russia — Written testimony of the Queen in favour 
of Madame Campan's zeal and fidelity — The King comes to see 
her, and confirms these marks of confidence and satisfaction — 
Projected interview between Louis XVL and Barnave — Attempts 
to poison Louis XVI. — Precautions taken — The Queen consults 
Pitt about the Revolution — His reply — The hnigres oppose all 
alliance with the constitutionals — Letter from Barnave to the 
Queen — Annex ..... 3I5-340 



CHAPTER XX 

Fresh libel by Madame de Lamotte — The Queen refuses to purchase 
the manuscript — The King buys it — The Queen performs her 
Easter devotions secretly in 1792 — She dares not confide in 
General Dumouriez — Barnave's last advice — Insults offered to the 
royal family by the mob — The King's dejection — 20th of June 
— The King's kindness to Madame Campan — Iron closet — 



xii CONTENTS 



Louis XVI. entrusts a portfolio to Madame Campan — Im- 
portance of the documents it contained — Procedure of M. de La 
Fayette — Why it was unsuccessful — An assassin conceals himself 
in the Queen's apartments . . , Pages 341-359 



CHAPTER XXI 

Madame Campan's communications with M. Bertrand de Molleville for 
the King's service — Hope of a speedy deliverance — The Queen's 
reflections upon the character of Louis XVI. — Insults — Inquiry 
set on foot by the Princesse de Lamballe respecting the persons 
of the Queen's household — The loth of August — Curious par- 
ticulars — Battle — Scenes of carnage — The royal family at the 
Feuillans ...... 360-384 



CHAPTER XXH 

Petion refuses Madame Campan permission to be imprisoned in the 
Temple with the Queen — She excites the suspicions of Robespierre 
— Domiciliary visits — Madame Campan opens the portfolio she 
had received from the King — Papers in it, with the seals of State 
— Mirabeau's secret correspondence with the Court — Destroyed as 
well as the other papers — The only document preserved — It is 
delivered to M. de Malesherbes on the trial of the unfortunate 
Louis XVI. — End of the Memoirs — Annex . 385-450 



[PREFATORY.] 

MEMOIR OF MADAME CAMPAN. 

Jeanne Louise Henriette Genet was born in Paris on 
the 6th of October 1752. M. Genet, her father, had 
obtained, through his own merit and the influence of the 
Due de Choiseul, the place of first clerk in the Foreign 
Office. 

Literature, which he had cultivated in his youth, was often 
the solace of his leisure hours. Surrounded by a numerous 
family, he made the instruction of his children his chief 
recreation, and omitted nothing which was necessary to 
render them highly accomplished. His clever and pre- 
cocious daughter Henriette was very early accustomed to 
enter society, and to take an intelligent interest in current 
topics and public events. Accordingly, many of her 
relations being connected with the Court or holding official 
positions, she amassed a fund of interesting recollections 
and characteristic anecdotes, some gathered from personal 
experience, others handed down by old friends of the family. 

" The first event which made any impression on me in 
my childhood," she says in her reminiscences, "was 
the attempt of Damiens to assassinate Louis XV. 
This occurrence struck me so. forcibly that the most 
minute details relating to the confusion and grief 



MEMOIR OF 



which prevailed at Versailles on that day seem as present 
to my imagination as the most recent events. I had dined 
with my father and mother, in company with one of their 
friends. The drawing-room was lighted up with a number 
of candles, and four card-tables were already occupied 
when a friend of the gentleman of the house came in, 
with a pale and terrified countenance, and. said, in a voice 
scarcely audible, ' I bring you terrible news. The King 
has been assassinated!' Two ladies in company fainted; 
a brigadier of the Body Guards threw down his cards, and 
cried out, ' I do not wonder at it ; it is those rascally 
Jesuits.' — 'What are you saying, brother?' cried a lady, 
flying to him; 'would you get yourself arrested?' — 
' Arrested ! for what ? for unmasking those wretches who 
want a bigot for a King?' My. father came in; he 
recommended circumspection, saying that the blow was 
not mortal, and that all meetings ought to be suspended at 
so critical a moment. He had brought a chaise for my 
mother, who placed me on her knees. We lived in the 
Avenue de Paris, and throughout our drive I heard incessant 
cries and sobs from the footpaths. At last I saw a man 
arrested ; he was an usher of the King's chamber, who had 
gone mad, and was crying out, ' Yes, I know them ; the 
wretches ! the villainy !' Our chaise was stopped by this 
bustle. My mother recognised the unfortunate man who 
had been seized ; she gave his name to the trooper who 
had stopped him. The poor usher was therefore merely 
conducted to the gens d^ urines' guard-room, which was then 
in the avenue. 

" I have often heard M. de Landsmath, equerry and 
master of the hounds, who used to come frequently to my 
father's, say, that on the news of the attempt on the King's 
life he instantly repaired to his Majesty. I cannot repeat 
the coarse expressions he made use of to encourage his 



MADAME CAMPAN 



Majesty: but his account of the affair, long afterwards, 
amused the parties in which he was prevailed on to relate 
it, when all apprehensions respecting the consequences of 
the event had subsided. This M. de Landsmath was an 
old soldier, who had given proofs of extraordinary valour ; 
nothing had been able to soften his manners or subdue his 
excessive bluntness to the respectful customs of the Court. 
The King was very fond of him. He possessed prodigious 
strength, and had often contended with Marshal Saxe, 
renowned for his great bodily power, in trying the strength 
of their respective wrists. ■'• M. de Landsmath had a 
thundering voice. When he came into the King's apart- 
ment he found the Dauphin and Mesdames, his Majesty's 
daughters, there ; the Princesses, in tears, surrounded the 
King's bed. ' Send out all these weeping women, Sire,' 
said the old equerry ; ' I want to speak to you alone.' 
The King made a sign to the Princesses to withdraw. 
' Come,' said Landsmath, ' your wound is nothing ; you 
had plenty of waistcoats and flannels on.' Then uncovering 
his breast, ' Look here,' said he, showing four or five great 
scars, ' these are something hke wounds ; I received them 
thirty years ago; now cough as loud as you can.' The 
King did so. ^'Tis nothing at all,' said Landsmath; 
' you must laugh at it ; we shall hunt a stag together in 
four days.' ' But suppose the blade was poisoned,' said 
the King. ' Old grandams' tales,' replied Landsmath ; 
' if it had been so, the waistcoats and flannels would have 
rubbed the poison off.' The King was pacified, and 
passed a very good night. 

1 One day when the King was hunting in the' forest of St. Germain, 
Landsmath, riding before him, wanted a cart, filled with the slime of a 
pond that had just been cleansed, to draw up out of the way. The 
carter resisted, and even answered with impertinence. Landsmath, 
without dismounting, seized him by the breast of his coat, lifted him up, 
and threw him into his cart. — Madame Cainpa7i. 



xxil MEMOIR OF 



" His Majesty one day asked M. de Landsmath how old 
he was. He was aged, and by no means fond of thinking 
of his age ; he evaded the question. A fortnight after Louis 
XV. took a paper out of his pocket and read aloud : ' On 

such a day in the month of one thousand six hundred 

and eighty , was baptized by me, Rector of , the 

son of the high and mighty lord,' etc. 'What's that?' 
said Landsmath angrily ; ' has your Majesty been procuring 
the certificate of my baptism?' 'There it is, you see, 
Landsmath,' said the King. 'Well, Sire, hide it as fast 
as you can ; a prince entrusted with the happiness of 
twenty-five millions of people ought not wilfully to hurt 
the feelings of a single individual' 

"The King learned that Landsmath had lost his confessor, 
a missionary priest of the parish of Notre Dame. It was 
the custom of the Lazarists to expose their dead with the 
face uncovered. Louis XV. wished to try his equerry's 
firmness. 'You have lost your confessor, I hear,' said 
the King. — 'Yes, Sire.' — 'He will be exposed with his 
face bare?' — 'Such is the custom.' — 'I command you 
to go and see him.' — 'Sire, my confessor was my friend; 
it would be very painful to me.' — ' No matter; I command 
you.' — 'Are you really in earnest. Sire?' — 'Quite so.' — 
' It would be the first time in my life that I had disobeyed 
my sovereign's order. I will go.' The next day the King 
at his levee^ as soon as he perceived Landsmath, said, 
'Have you done as I desired you, Landsmath?' — 'Un- 
doubtedly, Sire.' — 'Well, what did you see?' — 'Faith, I 
saw that your Majesty and I are no great shakes ! ' 

" At the death of Queen Maria Leczinska, M. Campan,^ 
then an officer of the chamber, having performed several 
confidential duties, the King asked Madame Adelaide how 
he should reward him. She requested him to create an 

^ Her father-in-law, afterwards secretary to Marie Antoinette. 



MADAME CAMPAN xxiil 

office in his household of master of the wardrobe, with a 
salary of a thousand crowns. ' I will do so/ said the 
King ; ' it will be an honourable title ; but tell Campan 
not to add a single crown to his expenses, for you will see 
they will never pay him.' 

" Louis XV., by his dignified carriage, and the ami- 
able yet majestic expression of his features, was worthy 
to succeed to Louis the Great. But he too frequently 
indulged in secret pleasures, which at last were sure to 
become known. During several winters, he was passion- 
ately fond of candles' end balls, as he called those parties 
amongst the very lowest classes of society. He got intelli- 
gence of the picnics given by the tradesmen, milliners, and 
sempstresses of Versailles, whither he repaired in a black 
domino, and masked, accompanied by the Captain of his 
Guards, masked like himself. His great delight was to go 
en brouette} Care was always taken to give notice to five 
or six officers of the King's or Queen's chamber to be 
there, in order that his Majesty might be surrounded by 
people on whom he could depend, without finding it trouble- 
some. Probably the Captain of the Guards also took other 
precautions of this description on his part. My father-in-law, 
when the King and he were both young, has often made 
one amongst the servants desired to attend masked at these 
parties, assembled in some garret, or parlour cf a public- 
house. In those times, during the carnival, masked 
companies had a right to join the citizens' balls ; it was 
sufficient that one of the party should unmask and name 
himself. 

" These secret excursions and his too habitual intercourse 
with ladies more distinguished for their personal charms 
than for the advantages of education, were no doubt the 

1 In a kind of sedan chair, running on two wheels, and drawn by a 
chairman. 



xxiv MEMOIR OF 



means by which the King acquired many vulgar expressions 
which otherwise would never have reached his ears. 

" Yet amidst the most shameful excesses the King some- 
times suddenly resumed the dignity of his rank in a very 
noble manner. The familiar courtiers of Louis XV. had 
one day abandoned themselves to the unrestrained gaiety 
of a supper, after returning from the chase. Each boasted 
of and described the beauty of his mistress. Some of them 
amused themselves with giving a particular account of their 
wives' personal defects. An imprudent word, addressed to 
Louis XV., and applicable only to the Queen, instantly 
dispelled all the mirth of the entertainment. The King 
assumed his regal air, and knocking with his knife on the 
table twice or thrice, ' Gentlemen,' said he, ' here is the 
King!' 

"Those men who are most completely abandoned to 
dissolute manners are not, on that account, insensible to 
virtue in women. The Comtesse de Perigord was as 
beautiful as virtuous. During some excursions she made 
to Choisy, whither she had been invited, she perceived that 
the King took great notice of her. Her demeanour of 
chilling respect, her cautious perseverance in shunning all 
serious conversation with the monarch, were insufficient to 
extinguish this rising flame, and he at length addressed a 
letter to her, worded in the most passionate terms. This 
excellent woman instantly formed her resolution : honour 
forbade her returning the King's passion, whilst her pro- 
found respect for the sovereign made her unwilling to 
disturb his tranquillity. She therefore voluntarily banished 
herself to an estate she possessed called Chalais, near 
Barbezieux, the mansion of which had been uninhabited 
nearly a century : the porter's lodge was the only place in 
a condition to receive her. ' From this seat she wrote to 
his Majesty, explaining her motives for leaving Court ; and 



MADAME CAMPAN 



she remained there several- years without visiting Paris. 
Louis XV. was speedily attracted by other objects, and 
regained the composure to which Madame de Perigord 
had thought it her duty to sacrifice so much. Some years 
after, Mesdames' lady of honour died. Many great families 
solicited the place. The King, without answering any of 
their applications, wrote to the Comtesse de Perigord : 
' My daughters have just lost their lady of honour ; this 
place, Madame, is your due, as much on account of your 
personal qualities as of the illustrious name of your family.' 
"Three young men of the college of St. Germain, who 
had just completed their course of studies, knowing no per- 
son about the Court, and having heard that strangers were 
always well treated there, resolved to dress themselves com- 
pletely in the Armenian costume, and, thus clad, to present 
themselves to see the grand ceremony of the reception of 
several knights of the Order of the Holy Ghost. Their strata- 
gem met with all the success with which they had flattered 
themselves. While the procession was passing through the 
long mirror gallery, the Swiss of the apartments placed them 
in the first row of spectators, recommending every one to 
pay all possible attention to the strangers. The latter, 
however, were imprudent enough to enter the oeil de-boeuf 
chamber, where were Messieurs Cardonne and Ruffin, 
interpreters of Oriental languages, and the first clerk of the 
consul's department, whose business it was to attend to 
everything which related to the natives of the East who 
were in France. The three scholars were immediately 
surrounded anji questioned by these gentlemen, at first in 
modern Greek. Without being disconcerted, they made 
signs that they did not understand it. They were then 
addressed in Turkish and Arabic; at length .one of the 
interpreters, losing all patience, . exclaimed, ' Gentlemen, 
you certainly must understand some of the languages in 



XXVI MEMOIR OF 



which you have been addressed. What country can you 
possibly come from then ? ' ' From St. Germain-en-Laye, 
sir/ repHed the boldest among them ; ' this is the first 
time you have put the question to us in French.' They 
then confessed the motive of their disguise ; the eldest of 
them was not more than eighteen years of age. Louis XV. 
was informed of the affair. He laughed heartily, ordered 
them a few hours' confinement and a good admonition, 
after which they were to be set at liberty. 

" Louis XV. liked to talk about death, though he was 
extremely apprehensive of it ; but his excellent health and 
his royal dignity probably made him imagine himself 
invulnerable. He often said to people who had very bad 
colds, 'You've a churchyard cough there.' Hunting one 
day in the forest of Senard, in a year in which bread was 
extremely dear, he met a man on horseback carrying a 
coffin. 'Whither are you carrying that coffin?' 'To the 

village of ,' answered the peasant. ' Is it for a man 

or a woman?' — 'For a man.' — 'What did he die of?' — 
'Of hunger,' bluntly replied the villager. The King 
spurred on his horse, and asked no more questions. 

" Weak as Louis XV. was, the Parliaments would never 
have obtained his consent to the convocation of the States- 
General. I heard an anecdote on this subject from two 
officers attached to that Prince's household. It was at the 
period when the remonstrances of the Parliaments, and the 
refusals to register the decrees for levying taxes, produced 
alarm with respect to the state of the finances. This 
became the subject of conversation one evening at the 
coucher of Louis XV. 'You will see. Sire,' said a courtier, 
whose office placed him in close communication with the 
King, 'that all this will make it absolutely necessary to 
assemble the States -General.' The King, roused by this 
speech from the habitual apathy of his character, seized the 



MADAME CAMPAN xxvil 

courtier by the arm, and said to him, in a passion, 'Never 
repeat these words. I am not sanguinary ; but had I a 
brother, and were he to dare to give me such advice, I 
would sacrifice him, within twenty-four hours, to the duration 
of the monarchy and the tranquilhty of the kingdom.' 

" Several years prior to his death the Dauphin, the father 
of Louis XVI., had confluent smallpox, which endangered 
his life ; and after his convalescence, he was long troubled 
with a malignant ulcer under the nose. He was injudi- 
ciously advised to get rid of it by the use of extract of lead, 
which proved effectual ; but from that time the Dauphin, 
who was corpulent, insensibly grew thin ; and a short dry 
cough evinced that the humour, driven in, had fallen on 
the lungs. Some persons also suspected him of having 
taken acids in too great a quantity for the purpose of 
reducing his bulk. The state of his health was not, 
however, such as to excite alarm. At the camp at Com- 
piegne, in July 1764, the Dauphin reviewed the troops, 
and evinced much activity in the performance of his duties ; 
it was even observed that he was seeking to gain the attach- 
ment of the army. He presented the Dauphiness to the 
soldiers, saying, with a simplicity which at that time made a 
great sensation, ' Mes enfans, here is my wife.' Returning 
late on horseback to Compiegne, he found he had taken a 
chill ; the heat of the day had been excessive ; the Prince's 
clothes had been wet with perspiration. An illness followed, 
in which the Prince began to spit blood. His principal 
physician wished to have him bled ; the consulting physicians 
insisted on purgation, and their advice was followed. The 
pleurisy, being ill cured, assumed and retained all the 
symptoms of consumption ; the Dauphin languished from 
that period until December 1765, and died at Fontainebleau, 
where the Court, on account of his condition, had pro- 
longed its stay, which usually ended on the 2d of November. 



xxviu MEMOIR OF 



"The Dauphiness, his widow, was excessively afflicted; 
but the immoderate despair which characterised her grief 
induced many to suspect that the loss of the crown was an 
important part of the calamity she lamented. She long 
refused to eat enough to support life ; she encouraged her 
tears to flow by placing portraits of the Dauphin in every 
retired part of her apartments. She had him represented 
pale, and ready to expire, in a picture placed at the foot of 
her bed, under draperies of gray cloth, with which the 
chambers of the Princesses were always hung in court 
mournings. Their grand cabinet was hung with black cloth, 
with an alcove, a canopy, and a throne, on which they received 
compHments of condolence after the first period of the deep 
mourning. The Dauphiness, some months before the end 
of her career, regretted her conduct in abridging it ; but it 
was too late ; the fatal blow had been struck. It may also 
be presumed that living with a consumptive man had 
contributed to her complaint. This Princess had no 
opportunity of displaying her qualities ; living in a court, in 
which she was eclipsed by the King and Queen, the only 
characteristics that could be remarked in her were her 
extreme attachment to her husband, and her great piety. 

" The Dauphin was little known, and his character has 
been much mistaken. He himself, as he confessed to his 
intimate friends, sought to disguise it. He one day asked 
one of his most familiar servants, 'What do they say in 
Paris of that great fool of a Dauphin?' The person 
interrogated seeming confused, the Dauphin urged him to 
express himself sincerely, saying, 'Speak freely; that is 
positively the idea which I wish people to form of me.' 

" As he died of a disease which allows the last moment 
to be anticipated long beforehand, he wrote much, and 
transmitted his affections and his prejudices to his son by 
secret notes. 



MADAME CAMPAN xxix 



" Madame de Pompadour's brother received Letters of 
Nobility from his Majesty, and was appointed super- 
intendent of the buildings and gardens. He often presented 
to her Majesty, through the medium of his sister, the 
rarest flowers, pine-apples, and early vegetables from the 
gardens of Trianon and Choisy. One day, when the 
Marchioness came into the Queen's apartments, carrying a 
large basket of flowers, which she held in her two beautiful 
arms, without gloves, as a mark of respect, the Queen 
loudly declared her admiration of her beauty ; and seemed 
as if she wished to defend the King's choice, by praising 
her various charms in detail, in a manner that would have 
been as suitable to a production of the fine arts as to a 
living being. After applauding the complexion, eyes, and 
fine arms of the favourite, with that haughty condescension 
which renders approbation more offensive than flattering, 
the Queen at length requested her to sing, in the attitude 
in which she stood, being desirous of hearing the voice and 
musical talent by which the King's Court had been charmed 
in the performances of the private apartments, and thus 
combining the gratification of the ears with that of the eyes. 
The Marchioness, who still held her enormous basket, was 
perfectly sensible of something offensive in this request, 
and tried to excuse herself from singing. The Queen at 
last commanded her; she then exerted her fine voice in 
the solo of Armida — ' At length he is in my power.' The 
change in her Majesty's countenance was so obvious that 
the ladies present at this scene had the greatest difficulty to 
keep theirs. 

" The Queen was affable and modest ; but the more she 
was thankful in her heart to Heaven for having placed her 
on the first throne in Europe, the more unwilling she was 
to be reminded of her elevation. This sentiment induced 
her to insist on the observation of all the forms of respect 



XXX MEMOIR OF 



due to royal birth ; whereas in other princes the conscious- 
ness of that birth often induces them to disdain the 
ceremonies of etiquette, and to prefer habits of ease and 
simphcity. There was a striking contrast in this respect 
between Maria Leczinska and Marie Antoinette, as has 
been justly and generally observed. The latter unfortunate 
Queen, perhaps, carried her disregard of everything belong- 
ing to the strict forms of etiquette too far. One day, when 
the Marechale de Mouchy was teasing her with questions 
relative to the extent to which she would allow the ladies 
the option of taking off or wearing their cloaks, and of 
pinning up the lappets of their caps, or letting them hang 
down, the Queen repHed to her, in my presence : ' Arrange 
all those matters, madame, just as you please ; but do not 
imagine that a Queen, born Archduchess of Austria, can 
attach that importance to them which might be felt by a 
Polish princess who had become Queen of France.' 

"The virtues and information of the great are always 
evinced by their conduct ; their accomplishments, coming 
within the scope of flattery, are difficult to be ascertained 
by any authentic proofs, and those who have lived near 
them may be excused for some degree of scepticism with 
regard to their attainments of this kind. If they draw or 
paint, there is always an able artist present, who, if he does 
not absolutely guide the pencil with his own hand, directs 
it by his advice. If a princess attempt a piece of embroidery 
in colours, of that description which ranks amongst the 
productions of the arts, a skilful embroideress is employed 
to undo and repair whatever has been spoilt. If the 
princess be a musician, there are no ears that will discover 
when she is out of tune ; at least there is no tongue that 
will tell her so. This imperfection in the accomplishments 
of the great is but a slight misfortune. It is sufficiently 
meritorious in them to engage in such pursuits, even with 



MADAME CAMPAN xxxi 



indifferent success, because this taste and the protection it 
extends produce abundance of talent on every side. Maria 
Leczinska dehghted in the art of painting, and imagined 
she herself could draw and paint. She had a drawing- 
master, who passed all his time in her cabinet. She under- 
took- to paint four large Chinese pictures, with which she 
wished to ornament her private drawing-room, which was 
richly furnished with rare porcelain and the finest marbles. 
This painter was entrusted with the landscape and back- 
ground of the pictures; he drew the figures with a 
pencil, the faces and arms were also left by the Queen to 
his execution; she reserved to herself nothing but the 
draperies, and the least important accessories. The Queen 
every morning filled up the outline marked out for her, with 
a little red, blue, or green colour, which the master prepared 
on the palette, and even filled her brush with, constantly 
repeating, ' Higher up, Madame—lower down, Madame— 
a little to the right-^more to the left.' After an hour's 
work, the time for hearing mass, or some other family or 
pious duty, would interrupt her Majesty ; and the painter, 
putting the shadows into the draperies she had painted,' 
softening off the colour where she had laid too much, etc' 
finished the small figures. When the work was completed 
the private drawing-room was decorated with her Majesty's 
work ; and the firm persuasion of this good Queen that she 
had painted it herself was so entire that she left this cabinet, 
with all its furniture and paintings, to the Comtesse de 
Noailles, her lady of honour. She added to the bequest : 
' The pictures in my cabinet being my own work, I hope 
the Comtesse de Noailles will preserve them for my sake.' 
Madame de Noailles, afterwards Marechale de Mouchy, 
had a new paviHon constructed in her hotel in the Faubourg 
St. Germain, in order to form a suitable receptacle for 
the Queen's legacy; and had the following inscription 



xxxii MEMOIR OF 



placed over the door, in letters of gold : ' The innocent 
falsehood of a good princess.' 

" Maria Leczinska could never look with cordiality on the 
Princess of Saxony, who married the Dauphin ; but the 
attentive behaviour of the Dauphiness at length made her 
Majesty forget that the Princess was the daughter of a 
King who wore her father's crown. Nevertheless, although 
the Queen now saw in the Princess of Saxony only a wife 
beloved by her son, she never could forget that Augustus 
wore the crown of Stanislaus. One day an officer of her 
chamber having undertaken to ask a private audience of her 
for the Saxon minister, and the Queen being unwilling to 
grant it, he ventured to add that he should not have 
presumed to ask this favour of the Queen had not the 
minister been the ambassador of a member of the family. 
'Say of an enemy of the family,' replied the Queen 
angrily ; ' and let him come in.' 

" Comte de Tesse, father of the last count of that name, 
who left no children, was first equerry to Queen Maria 
Leczinska. She esteemed his virtues, but often diverted 
herself at the expense of his simplicity. One day, when 
the conversation turned on the noble military actions by 
which the French nobility was distinguished, the Queen 
said to the Count : ' And your family, M. de Tesse, has 
been famous, too, in the field.' 'Ah, Madame, we have 
all been killed in our masters' service !' 'How rejoiced I^ 
am,' replied the Queen, ' that you have revived to tell me 
of it.' The son of this worthy M. de Tesse was married 
to the amiable and highly -gifted daughter of the Due 
d'Ayen, afterwards Marechale de Noailles. He was ex- 
cessively fond of his daughter-in-law, and never could speak 
of her without emotion. The Queen, to please him, often 
talked to him about the young countess, and one day asked 
him which of her good qualities seemed to him most con- 



MADAME CAMPAN XXXlU 

spicuous. ' Her gentleness, Madame, her gentleness,' said 
he, with tears in his eyes ; ' she is so mild, so soft — as soft 
as a good carriage.' 'Well,' said' her Majesty, 'that's an 
excellent comparison for a first equerry.' 

"In 1730 Queen Maria Leczinska going to mass met 
old Marshal Villars, leaning on a wooden crutch not worth 
fifteen pence. She rallied him about it, and the Marshal 
told her that he had used it ever since he had received a 
wound which obliged him to add this article to the equip- 
ments of the army. Her Majesty, smiHng, said she thought 
this crutch so unworthy of him that she hoped to induce 
him to give it up. On returning home she despatched M. 
Campan to Paris with orders to purchase at the celebrated 
Germain's the handsomest cane, with a gold enamelled 
crutch, that he could find, and carry it without delay to 
Marshal Villars's hotel, and present it to him from her. He 
was announced accordingly, and fulfilled his commission. 
The Marshal, in attending him. to the door, requested him 
to express his gratitude to the Queen, and said that he 
had nothing fit to offer to an officer who had the honour 
to belong to her Majesty ; but he begged him to accept of 
his old stick, and that his grandchildren would probably 
some day be glad to possess the cane with which he had 
commanded at Marchiennes and Denain. The known 
frugality of Marshal Villars appears in this anecdote ; but 
he was not mistaken with respect to the estimation in which 
his stick would be held. It was thenceforth kept with 
veneration by M. Campan's family. On the i oth of August 
1792 a house which I occupied on the Carrousel, at the 
entrance of the court of the Tuileries, was pillaged and 
nearly burnt down. The cane of Marshal Villars was 
thrown into the Carrousel as of no value, and picked up by 
my servant. Had its old master been living at that period 
we should not have witnessed such a deplorable day. 



MEMOIR OF 



" Before the Revolution there were customs and words 
in use at Versailles with which few people were acquainted. 
The King's dinner was called 'The King's meat.' Two 
of the Body Guard accompanied the attendants who carried 
the dinner; every one rose as they passed through the 
halls, saying, * There is the King's meat.' All precautionary 
duties were distinguished by the words 'in case.' One of 
the guards might be heard to say, ' I am in case in the 
Forest of St. Germain.' In the evening they always 
brought the Queen a large bowl of broth, a cold roast fowl, 
one bottle of wine, one of orgeat, one of lemonade, and 
some other articles, which were called the in case for the 
night. An old medical gentleman, who had been physician 
in ordinary to Louis XIV., and was still living at the time 
of the marriage of Louis XV., told M. Campan's father an 
anecdote which seems too remarkable to have remained 
unknown ; nevertheless he was a man of honour, incapable 
of inventing this story. His name was Lafosse. He said 
that Louis XIV. was informed that the officers of his table 
evinced, in the most disdainful and offensive manner, the 
mortification they felt at being obliged to eat at the table of 
the comptroller of the kitchen along with Moliere, valet de 
chambre to his Majesty, because Moliere had performed on 
the stage ; and that this celebrated author consequently 
declined appearing at that table. Louis XIV., determined 
to put an end to insults which ought never to have been 
offered to one of the greatest geniuses of the age, said to 
him one morning at the hour of his private levee, 'They 
say you live very poorly here, Moliere ; and that the officers 
of my chamber do not find you good enough to eat with 
them. Perhaps you are hungry ; for my part I awoke with 
a very good appetite this morning : sit down at this table. 
Serve up my in case for the night there.' The King then 
cutting up his fowl, and ordering Mohere to sit down, helped 



MADAME CAMP AN XXXV 

him to a wing, at the same time taking one for himself, and 
ordered the persons entitled to familiar entrance, that is 
to say the most distinguished and favourite people at 
Court, to be admitted. 'You see me,' said the King to 
them, 'engaged in entertaining Moliere, whom my valets 
de chambre do not consider sufficiently good company for 
them.' From that time MoHere never had occasion to 
appear at the valets' table; the whole Court was forward 
enough to send him invitations. 

" M. de Lafosse used also to relate that a brigade-major 
of the Body Guard, being ordered to place the company in 
the little theatre at Versailles, very roughly turned out one 
of the King's comptrollers who had taken his seat on one 
of the benches, a place to which his newly-acquired office 
entitled him. In vain he insisted on his quality and his 
right. The altercation was ended by the brigade-major 
in these words — 'Gentlemen Body Guards, do your duty.' 
In this case their duty was to turn the offender out at 
the door. This comptroller, who had paid sixty or eighty 
thousand francs for his appointment, was a man of a good 
family, and had had the honour of serving his Majesty 
five-and-twenty years in one of his regiments ; thus ignomi- 
niously driven out of the hall, he placed himself in the King's 
way in the great hall of the Guards, and bowing ' to his 
Majesty requested him to vindicate the honour of an old 
soldier who had wished to end his days in his Prince's civil 
employment, now that age had obliged him to relinquish 
his military service. The King stopped, heard his story, 
and then ordered him to follow him. His Majesty attended 
the representation in a sort of amphitheatre, in which his 
arm-chair was placed ; behind him was a row of stools for 
the captain of the Guards, the first gentleman of the cham- 
ber, and other great officers. The brigade -major was 
entitled to one of these places ; the King stopped opposite 



xxxvi MEMOIR OF 



the seat which ought to have been occupied by that officer 
and said to the comptroller, 'Take, sir, for this evening, 
the place near my person of him who has offended you, 
und let the expression of my displeasure at this unjust 
affront satisfy you instead of any other reparation.' 

" During the latter years of the reign of Louis XIV. 
he never went out but in a chair carried by porters, and 
he showed a great regard for a inan named D'Aigre- 
mont, one of those porters who always went in front and 
opened the door of the chair. The slightest preference 
shown by sovereigns, even to the meanest of their servants, 
never fails to excite observation.^ The King had done 
something for this man's numerous family, and frequently 
talked to him. An abbe belonging to the chapel thought 
proper to request D'Aigremont to present a memorial to 
the King, in which he requested his Majesty to grant him 
a benefice. Louis XIV. did not approve of the hberty thus 
taken by his chairman, and said to him, in a very angry tone, 
' D'Aigremont, you have been made to do a very unbecom- 
ing act, and I am sure there must be simony in the case.' — 
' No, Sire, there is not the least ceremony in the case, I assure 
you,' answered the poor man, in great consternation ; ' the 
abbe only said he would give me a hundred louis.' — 
' D'Aigremont,' said the King, ' I forgive you on account 
of your ignorance and candour. I will give you the hun- 
dred louis out of my privy purse ; but I will discharge you 
the very next time you venture to present a memorial to me.' 

^ People of the very first rank did not disdain to descend to the level 
of D'Aigremont. " Lauzun," says the Duchesse d' Orleans in her Memoirs, 
' ' sometimes affects stupidity in order to show people their own with im- 
punity, for he is very malicious. In order to make Mar^chal Tess6 feel 
the impropriety of his famiharity with people of the common sort, he called 
out, in the drawing-room at Marly, ' Mar^chal, give me a pinch of snuff ; 
some of your best, such as you take in the morning with Monsieur d' Aigre- 
mont the chairman.'" — Note by the Editor. 



MADAME CAMPAN 



" Louis XIV. was very kind to those of his servants who 
were nearest his person ; but the moment he assumed his 
royal deportment, those who were most accustomed to see 
him in his domestic character were as much intimidated 
as if they were appearing in his presence for the first time 
in their fives. Some of the members of his Majesty's civil 
household, then called cofmnensalite, enjoying the title of 
equerry, and the privileges attached to officers of the 
King's household, had occasion to claim some prerogatives, 
the exercise of which the municipal body of Saint Germain, 
where they resided, disputed with them. Being assembled 
in considerable numbers in that town, they obtained the 
consent of the minister of the household to allow them to 
send a deputation to the King ; and for that purpose chose 
from amongst them two of his Majesty's valets de chambre 
named Bazire and Soulaigre. The King's levee being over, 
the deputation of the inhabitants of the town of Saint Ger- 
main was called in. They entered with confidence ; the 
King" looked at them, and assumed his imposing attitude. 
Bazire, one of these valets de chambre^ was about to speak, 
but Louis the Great was looking on him. He no longer 
saw the Prince he was accustomed to attend at home ; he 
was intimidated, and could not find words ; he recovered, 
however, and began as usual with the word Sire. But 
timidity again overpowered him, and finding himself unable 
to recollect the slightest particle of what he came to say, he 
repeated the word Sire several times over, and at length 
concluded by saying, ^ Sire, here is Soulaigre.' Soulaigre, 
who was very angry with Bazire, and expected to acquit 
himself much better, then began to speak; but he also, 
after repeating Sire several times, found his embarrassment 
increase upon him, until his confusion equalled that of his 
colleague; he therefore ended with ^ Sire, here is Bazire,' 
The King smiled, and answered, ' Gentlemen, I have been 



xxxviii MEMOIR OF 



informed of the business upon which you have been deputed 
to wait on me, and I will take care that what is right shall 
be done. I am highly satisfied with the manner in which 
you have fulfilled your functions as deputies.' " 

Mademoiselle Genet's education was the object of her 
father's particular attention. Her progress in the study of 
music and of foreign languages was surprising ; Albaneze 
instructed her in singing, and Goldoni taught her Italian. 
Tasso, Milton, Dante, and even Shakespeare, soon became 
familiar to her. But her studies were particularly directed 
to the acquisition of a correct and elegant style of reading. 
Rochon de Chabannes, Duclos, Barthe, Marmontel, and 
Thomas, took pleasure in hearing her recite the finest 
scenes of Racine. Her memory and genius at the age of 
fourteen charmed them ; they talked of her talents in 
society, and perhaps applauded them too highly. 

She was soon spoken of at Court. Some ladies 
of high rank, who took an interest in the welfare of her 
family, obtained for her the place of Reader to the Prin- 
cesses. Her presentation, and the circumstances which pre- 
ceded it, left a strong impression on her mind. " I was 
then fifteen;" she says, "my father felt some regret at 
yielding me up at so early an age to the jealousies of the 
Court. The day on which I first put on my court dress, 
and went to embrace him in his study, tears filled his eyes, 
and mingled with the expression of his pleasure. I possessed 
some agreeable talents, in addition to the instruction which 
it had been his delight to bestow on me. He enumerated 
all my little accomplishments, to convince me of the vexa- 
tions they would not fail to draw upon me." 

Mademoiselle Genet,^at fifteen, was naturally less of a 
philosopher than her father was at forty. Her eyes were 
dazzled by the splendour which glittered at Versailles. 
"The Queen, Maria Leczinska, the wife of Louis XV., 



MADAME CAMPAN xxxix 

died," she says, "just before I was presented at Court. 
The grand apartments hung with black, the great chairs of 
state, raised on several steps, and surmounted by a canopy 
adorned with plumes ; the caparisoned horses, the immense 
retinue in court mourning, the enormous shoulder-knots, 
embroidered with gold and silver spangles, which decorated 
the coats of the pages and footmen — all this magnificence 
had such an effect on my senses that I could scarcely 
support myself when introduced to the Princesses. The 
first day of my reading in the inner apartment of Madame 
Victoire I found it impossible to pronounce more than two 
sentences ; my heart palpitated, my voice faltered, and my 
sight failed. How well understood was the potent magic 
of the grandeur and dignity which ought to surround 
sovereigns ! Marie Antoinette, dressed in white, with a 
plain straw hat, and a little switch in her hand, walking on 
foot, followed by a single servant, through the walks leading 
to the Petit Trianon, would never have thus disconcerted 
mej and I believe this extreme simplicity was the first 
and only real mistake of all those with which she is re- 
proached." 

When once her awe and confusion had subsided 
Mademoiselle Genet was enabled to form a more accurate 
judgment of her situation. It was by no means attractive ; 
the court of the Princesses, far removed from the revels 
to which Louis XV. was addicted, was grave, methodical, 
and dull. Madame Adelaide, the eldest of the Princesses, 
lived secluded in the interior of her apartments ; Madame 
Sophie was haughty; Madame Louise a devotee. Mademoi- 
selle Genet never quitted the Princesses' apartrnents ; but 
she attached herself most particularly to Madame Victoire. 
This Princess had possessed beauty ; her countenance bore 
an expression of benevolence, and her conversation was 
kind, free, and unaffected. The young Reader excited in 



xl MEMOIR OF 



her that feehng which a woman in years, of an affectionate 
disposition, readily extends to young people who are grow- 
ing up in her sight, and who possess some useful talents. 
Whole days were passed in reading to the Princess, as she 
sat at work in her apartment. Mademoiselle Genet fre- 
quently saw there Louis XV., of whom she has related 
the following anecdote : — 

" One day, at the Chateau of Compiegne, the King came 
in whilst I was reading to Madame. I rose and went into 
another room. Alone, in an apartment from which there 
was no outlet, with no book but a Massillon, which I had 
been reading to the Princess ; happy in all the lightness 
and gaiety of fifteen, I amused myself with turning swiftly 
round, with my court hoop, and suddenly kneeling down to 
see my rose-coloured silk petticoat swelled around me by 
the wind. In the midst of this grave employment enters 
his Majesty, followed by one of the Princesses. I attempt 
to rise ; my feet stumble, and down I fall in the midst of 
my robes, puffed out by the wind. '■Daughter^ said 
Louis XV., laughing heartily, ' / advise yoit to seiid back to 
school a Reader who makes cheeses,^ " The railleries of Louis 
XV. were often much more cutting, as Mademoiselle Genet 
experienced on another occasion, which, thirty years after- 
wards, she could not relate without an emotion of fear. 
" Louis XV.," she said, " had the most imposing presence. 
His eyes remained fixed upon you all the time he was 
speaking ; and, notwithstanding the beauty of his features, 
he inspired a sort of fear. I was very young, it is true, 
when he first spoke to me ; you shall judge whether it was 
in a very gracious manner. I was fifteen. The King was 
going out to hunt, and a numerous retinue followed him. 
As he stopped opposite me he said, ' Mademoiselle Genet, 
I am assured you are very learned, and understand four or 
five foreign languages.' * I know only two. Sire,' I answered. 



MADAME CAMPAN xli 

trembling. ' Which are they ?' ' English and Italian.' ' Do 
you speak them fluently ?' ' Yes, Sire, very fluently.' ' That 
is quite enough to drive a husband mad.' After this pretty 
compliment the King went on ; the retinue saluted me, 
laughing ; and, for my part, I remained for some moments 
motionless with surprise and confusion." 

At the time when the French alliance was proposed 
-by the Due de Choiseul there was at Vienna a doctor 
named Gassner,^ who had fled thither to seek an asylum 
against the persecutions of his sovereign, one of the ecclesi- 
astical electors. Gassner, gifted with an extraordinary 
warmth of imagination, imagined that he received inspira- 
tions. The Empress protected him ; saw him occasionally ; 
rallied him on his visions, and, nevertheless, heard them with 
a sort of interest. "Tell me," said she to him one day, 
"whether my Antoinette will be happy." Gassner turned 
pale, and remained silent. Being still pressed by the 
Empress, and wishing to give a general kind of expression 
to the idea with which he seemed deeply occupied, 
" Madame ^^ he replied, " thei'eare crosses fo7' all shoulder sT'^ 

The occurrences at the Place Louis XV. on the marriage 
festivities at Paris are generally known. The conflagration 
of the scaffolds intended for the fireworks, the want of fore- 
sight of the authorities, the avidity of robbers, the murderous 
career of the coaches, brought about and aggravated the 
disasters of that day ; and the young Dauphiness, coming 
from Versailles, by the Cours la Reine, elated with joy, 
brilliantly decorated, and eager to witness the rejoicings of 
the whole people, fled, struck with consternation and 
drowned in tears, from the dreadful scene. This tragic 
opening of the young Princess's life in France seemed to 

1 Jean Joseph Gassner, a pretender to miraculous powers. 
^ Related by Madame Campan on the authority of the governor of 
the children of Prince Kaunitz. 



xlii MEMOIR OF 



bear out Gassner's hint of disaster, and to be ominous of 
the terrible future which awaited her. 

In the same year in which Marie Antoinette was married 
to the Dauphin, Henriette Genet married a son of M. 
Campan, already mentioned as holding an office at the Court, 
and when the household of the Dauphiness was formed, 
Madame Campan was appointed her reader, and received 
from Marie Antoinette a consistent kindness and confidence 
to which by her loyal service she was fully entitled.^ 
Madame Campan's intelligence and vivacity made her much 
more sympathetic to a young Princess, gay and affectionate 
in disposition, and reared in the simplicity of a German 
Court, than her lady of honour the Comtesse de Noailles; 
This respectable lady, who was placed near her as a 
minister of the laws of etiquette, instead of alleviating their 
weight, rendered their yoke intolerable to her. 

"Madame de Noailles," says Madame Campan, 
" abounded in virtues. Her piety, charity, and irreproach- 
able morals rendered her worthy of praise; but etiquette 
was to her a sort of atmosphere ; at the slightest derange- 
ment of the consecrated order, one would have thought that 
the principles of life would forsake her frame. 

" One day, I unintentionally threw this poor lady into 
a terrible agony. The Queen was receiving I know not 
whom — some persons just presented, I beheve; the lady 
of honour, the Queen's tirewoman, and the ladies of the 
bed-chamber, were behind the Queen. I was near the 
throne, with the two women on duty. All was right — at 
least I thought so. Suddenly I perceived the eyes of 
Madame de Noailles fixed on mine. She made a sign 

1 One of Madame Campan's sisters, married to M. Augui^, Receveur^ 
G^n^ral des Finances, was made dresser to Marie Antoinette. Her sad 
fate is mentioned in Madame Campan's narrative. M. Augui^ died of 
apoplexy in 1815, on hearing of the arrest of his son-in-law, Mar^chal 
Ney. 



MADAME CAMPAN xliii 



with her head, and then raised her eyebrows to the top 
of her forehead, lowered them, raised them again, then 
began to make little signs with her hand. From all 
this pantomime, I could easily perceive that something 
was not as it should be; and as I looked about on all 
sides to find out what it was, the agitation of the Countess 
kept increasing. The Queen, who perceived all this, 
looked at me with a smile; I found means to approach 
her Majesty, who said to me in a whisper, ' Let down 
your lappets, or the Countess will expire.' All this bustle 
arose from two unlucky pins which fastened up my 
lappets, whilst the etiquette of costume said ' Lappets 
hanging doivn.' " 

Her contempt of the vanities of etiquette became the 
pretext for the first reproaches levelled at the Queen. What 
misconduct might not be dreaded from a princess who 
could absolutely go out without a hoop ! and who, in the 
salons of Trianon, instead of discussing the important rights 
to chairs and stools, good-naturedly invited everybody to be 
seated.^ The anti-Austrian party, discontented and vindic- 
tive, became spies upon her conduct, exaggerated her 
slightest errors, and calumniated her most innocent pro- 
ceedings. "What seems unaccountable at the first glance," 
says Montjoie, " is that the first attack on the reputation of 
the Queen proceeded from the bosom of the Court. What 

1 " M, de Fresne Forget, being one day in company with the Queen 
Marguerite, told her he was astonished how men and women with such 
great ruffs could eat soup without spoiling them ; and still more how the 
ladies could be gallant with their great fardingales. The Queen made no 
answer at that time, but a few days after, having a very large ruff on, and 
some bouilli to eat, she ordered a very long spoon to be brought, and ate 
her iouilli with ."4t, \^thout soihng her ruff. Upon which, addressing 
herself to M. de Ffesne, she said, laughing, ' There now, you see, with a 
httle ingenuity one may manage anything.' 'Yes, faith, Madame,' said 
the good man, ' as far as regards the soup I am satisfied.'" — ^Vol. ii. p. 350 
of Laplace s Collection. 



xliv MEMOIR OF 



interest could the courtiers have in seeking her destruction, 
which involved that of the King? Was it not drying up 
the source of all the advantages they enjoyed, or could 
hope for?"^ 

When the terrible Danton exclaimed, " The kings of 
Europe menace us ; it behoves us to defy- them ; let us throw 
down to them the head of a king as our gage ! " these de- 
testable words, followed by so cruel a result, formed, how- 
ever, a formidable stroke of policy. But the Queen ! 
What urgent reasons of state could Danton, Collot 
d'Herbois, and Robespierre allege against her? What 
savage greatness did they discover in stirring up a whole 
nation to avenge their quarrel on a woman? What re- 
mained of her former power ? She was a captive, a widow, 
trembling for her children ! In those judges, who at once 
outraged modesty and nature ; in that people whose vilest 
scoffs pursued her to the scaffold, who could have recog- 
nised the generous people of France ? Of all the crimes 

^ Madame Campan relates the following among many anecdotes 
illustrative of the Queen's kindness of heart : "A petition was addressed to 
the Queen by a corporation in the neighbourhood of Paris, praying for the 
destruction of the game which destroyed their crops. I was the bearer of 
this petition to her Majesty, who said, ' I will undertake to have these 
good people relieved from so great an annoyance.' She gave the docu- 
ment to M. da Vermond in my presence, saying : ' I desire that immedi- 
ate justice be done to this petition.' An assurance was given that her 
order should be attended to, but six weeks afterwards a second petition 
was sent up, for the nuisance had not been abated after all. If the second 
petition had reached the Queen M. de Vermond would have received a 
sharp reprimand. She was always so happy when it was in her power to 
do good." 

The quick repartee, which was another of the Queen's characteristics, 
was less likely to promote her popularity. " M. Brunier," says Madame 
Campan, ' ' was physician to the royal children. During his visits to the 
palace, if the death of any of his patients was alluded to he never failed to 
say — ' Ah ! there I lost one of my best friends.' ' Well,' said the Queen, 
' if he loses all his patients who are his friends, what will become of those 
who are not?' " 



MADAME CAMPAN xlv 

which disgraced the Revolution, none was more calculated 
to show how the spirit of party can degrade the character 
of a nation. 

The news of this dreadful event reached Madame 
Campan in an obscure retreat which she had chosen. 
She had not succeeded in her endeavours to share the 
Queen's captivity, and she expected every moment a 
similar fate. After escaping, almost miraculously, from the 
murderous fury of the Marseillais ; after being denounced 
and pursued by Robespierre, and entrusted, through the 
confidence of the King and Queen, with papers of the 
utmost importance, Madame Campan went to Coubertin, 
in the valley of Chevreuse. Madame Auguie, her sister, 
had just committed suicide, at the very moment of her 
arrest.^ The scaffold awaited Madame Campan, when the 
9th of Thermidor restored her to life ; but did not restore 
to her the most constant object of her thoughts, her zeal 
and her devotion. 

A new career now opened to Madame Campan. At 
Coubertin, surrounded by her nieces, she was fond of 
directing their studies. This occupation caused her ideas 
to revert to the subject of education, and awakened once 
more the inclinations of her youth. At the age of twelve 
years she could never meet a school of young ladies 
passing through the streets without feeling ambitious of 
the situation and authority of their mistress. Her abode 
at Court had diverted but not altered her inclinations. 
"A month after the fall of Robespierre," she says, "I 
considered as to the means of providing for myself, for 
a mother seventy years of age, my sick husband, my 
child nine years old, and part of my ruined family. I now 

1 Maternal aflfection prevailed over her religious sentiments ; she 
wished to preserve the wreck of her fortune for her children. Had she 
deferred this fatal act for one day she would have been saved ; the cart 
which conveyed Robespierre to execution stopped her funeral procession ! 



xlvi MEMOIR OF 



possessed nothing in the world but an assignat of five 
hundred francs. I had become responsible for my 
husband's debts, to the amount of thirty thousand francs. 
I chose St. Germain to set up a boarding school, for that 
town did not remind me, as Versailles did, both of happy 
times and of the misfortunes of France. I took with me a 
nun of VEnf ant-Jesus, to give an unquestionable pledge of 
my religious principles. The school of St. Germain was 
the first in which the opening of an oratory was ventured 
on. The Directory was displeased at it, and ordered it to 
be immediately shut up; and some time after commis- 
sioners were sent to desire that the reading of the Scriptures 
should be suppressed in my school. I inquired what 
books were to be substituted in their stead. After some 
minutes' conversation, they observed : ' Citizeness, you are 
arguing after the old fashion ; no reflections. The nation 
commands ; we must have obedience, and no reasoning.' 
Not having the means of printing my prospectus, I wrote 
a hundred copies of it, and sent them to those persons of 
my acquaintance who had survived the dreadful com- 
motions. At the year's end I had sixty pupils ; soon after- 
wards a hundred. I bought furniture, and paid my debts." 
The rapid success of the establishment at St. Germain 
was undoubtedly owing to the talents, experience, and 
excellent principles of Madame Campan, seconded by 
public opinion. All property had changed hands ; all 
ranks found themselves confusedly jumbled by the shock 
of the Revolution : the great lord dined at the table of the 
opulent contractor ; and the witty and elegant marchioness 
was present at the ball by the side of the clumsy peasant 
lately grown rich. In the absence of the ancient dis- 
tinctions, elegant manners and polished language now 
formed a kind of aristocracy. The house of St. Germain, 
conducted by a lady who possessed the deportment and 



MADAME CAMPAN xlvii 



the habits of the best society, was not only a school of 
knowledge, but a school of the world. 

"A friend of Madame de Beauharnais," continues 
Madame Campan, " brought me her daughter Hortense de 
Beauharnais, and her niece Emilie de Beauharnais. Six 
months afterwards she came to inform me of her marriage 
with a Corsican gentleman, who had been brought up in 
the military school, and was then a general. I was re- 
quested to communicate this information to her daughter, 
who long lamented her mother's change of name. I'was 
also desired to watch over the education of little Eugene 
de Beauharnais, who was placed at St. Germain, in the 
same school with my son. 

"A great intimacy sprang up between my nieces and 
these young people. Madame de Beauharnais set out for 
Italy, and left her children with me. On her return, after 
the conquests of Bonaparte, that general, much pleased 
with the improvement of his step-daughter, invited me to 
dine at Malmaison, and attended two representations of 
Esther at my school." 

He also, showed his appreciation of her talents by send- 
ing his sister Caroline to St. Germain; shortly before 
her marriage to Murat, and while she was yet at Saint 
Germain, Napoleon observed to Madame Campan : " I do 
not like those love matches between young people whose 
brains are excited by the flames of the imagination. I had 
other views for my sister. Who knows what high alliance 
I might have procured for her ! She is thoughtless, and 
does not form a just notion of my situation. The time 
will come when, perhaps, sovereigns might dispute for her 
hand. She is about to marry a brave man; but in my 
situation that is not enough. Fate should be left to fulfil 
her decrees."^ 

1 Madame Murat one day said to Madame Campan : " I am astonished 



xlviii MEMOIR OF 



Madame Campan dined at the Tuileries in company 
with the Pope's Nuncio, at the period when the Concordat 
was in agitation. During dinner the First Consul astonished 
her by the able manner in which he conversed on the 
subject under discussion. She said he argued so logically 
that his talent quite amazed her. During the Consulate 
Napoleon one day said to her, " If ever I establish a 
republic of women, I shall make you First Consul." 

Napoleon's views as to "woman's mission" are now 
well known. Madame Campan said that she heard from 
him that when he founded the convent of the Sisters 
of la Charite he was urgently solicited to permit perpetual 
vows. He, however, refused to do so, on the ground that 
tastes may change, and that he did not see the necessity of 
excluding from the world women who might some time or 
other return to it, and become useful members of society. 
"Nunneries," he added, "assail the- very roots of popula- 
tion. It is impossible to calculate the loss which a nation 
sustains in having ten thousand women shut up in cloisters. 
War does but little mischief; for the number of males is at 
least one-twenty-fifth greater than that of females. Women 
may, if they please, be allowed to make perpetual vows at 
fifty years of age ; for then their task is fulfilled." 

Napoleon once said to Madame Campan, "The old 
systems of education were good for nothing ; what do young 
women stand in need of, to be well brought up in France?" 
"Of mothers,'^ answered Madame Campan. " It is well said," 
replied Napoleon. " Well, Madame, let the French be in- 
debted to you for bringing up mothers for their children." 
"Napoleon one day interrupted Madame de Stael in the 

that you are not more awed in our presence ; you speak to us with as much 
familiarity as when we were your pupils !" — " The best thing you can do," 
replied Madame Campan, "is to forget your titles when you are with me ; 
"for I can never be afraid of queens whom I have held under the rod." 



MADAME CAMPAN xlix 

midst of a profound political argument to ask her whether 
she had nursed her children." 

Never had the establishment at St. Germain been in a more 
flourishing condition than in 1802-3. What more could 
Madame Campan wish? For ten years absolute in her 
own house, she seemed also safe from the caprice of power. 
But the man who then disposed of the fate of France and 
Europe was soon to determine otherwise. 

After the battle of Austerlitz the State undertook to 
bring up, at the pubHc expense, the sisters, daughters, or 
nieces of those who were decorated with the Cross of 
Honour. The children of the warriors killed or wounded 
in glorious battle were to find paternal care in the ancient 
abodes c^ the Montmorencys and the Condes. Accustomed 
to cone itrate around him all superior talents, fearless him- 
self of superiority, Napoleon sought for a person qualified 
by experience and abilities to conduct the institution of 
Ecouen : he selected Madame Campan. 

Count Lacepede, the pupil, friend, and rival of Buffon, 
then Grand Chancellor of the Legion of Honour, assisted 
her with his enlightened advice. Napoleon, who could 
descend with ease from the highest political subjects to the 
examination of the most minute details ; and who was as 
much at home in inspecting a boarding school for young 
ladies as in reviewing the grenadiers of his guard ; whom it 
was impossible to deceive, and who was not unwilling to 
find fault when he visited the establishment at Ecouen, was 
forced to say, " // is all rights ^ 

"In the summer of 1811," relates Madame Campan, 
" Napoleon, accompanied by Marie Louise and several 
personages of distinction, visited the establishment at 
Ecouen. After inspecting the chapel and the refectories, 

^ Napoleon wished to be informed of every particular of the furniture, 
government, and order of the house, the instrijction and education of the 



1 MEMOIR OF 



Napoleon desired that the three principal pupils might 
be presented to him. 'Sire,' said I, 'I cannot select 
three ; I must present six.' He turned on his heel and 
repaired to the platform, where, after seeing all the 
classes assembled, he repeated his demand. 'Sire,' said 
I, ' I beg leave to inform your Majesty that I should 
commit an injustice towards several other pupils who are 
as far advanced as those whom I might have the honour 
to present to you.' 

" Berthier and others intimated to me, in a low tone 
of voice, that I should get into disgrace by my non- 
compliance. Napoleon looked over the whole of the 
house, entered into the most trivial details, and after 
addressing questions to several of the pupils : ' Well, 
madame,' said he, ' I am satisfied \ show me your six 
best pupils.'" Madame Campan presented them to him; 
and as he stepped into his carriage, he desired that their 
names might be sent to Berthier. On addressing the list 
to the Prince de Neufchatel, Madame Campan added to it 
the names of four other pupils, and all the ten obtained a 
pension of 300 francs. During the three hours which 
this visit occupied, Marie Louise did not utter a single 
word. 

M. de Beaumont, chamberlain to the Empress Jose- 
phine, one day at Malmaison was expressing his regret 

that M. D , one of Napoleon's generals, who had 

recently been promoted, did not belong to a great family. 
" You mistake, sir," observed Madame Campan, " he is 
of very ancient descent; he is one of the nephews of 
Charlemagne. All the heroes of our army sprang from 

pupils. The internal regulations were submitted to him. One of the 
intended rules, drawn up by Madame Campan, proposed that the children 
should hear mass on Sundays and Thursdays. Napoleon himself wrote 
on the margin, '^ every day." 



MADAME CAMPAN li 

the elder branch of that^sovereign's family, who never 
emigrated. " 

When Madame Campan related this circumstance she 
added: "After the 30th of March 18 14 some officers of 
the army of Conde presumed to say to certain French 
marshals that it was a pity they were not more nobly 
connected. In answer to this one of them said, 'True 
nobiHty, gentlemen, consists in giving proofs of it. The 
field of honour has witnessed ours ; but where are we 
to look for yours? Your swords have rusted in their 
scabbards. Our laurels may well excite envy ; we have 
earned them nobly, and we owe them solely to our valour. 
You have merely inherited a name. This is the dis- 
tinction between us.' " ^ 

Napoleon used to observe that if he had had two such 
field-marshals as Suchet in Spain he would have not only 
conquered but kept the Peninsula. Suchet's sound judg- 
ment, his governing yet conciliating spirit, his military tact, 
and his bravery, had procured him astonishing success. 
"It is to be regretted," added he, "that a sovereign cannot 
improvise men of his stamp." ^ 

On the 19th of March 18 15 a number of papers were 
left in the King's closet. Napoleon ordered them to be 
examined, and among them was found the letter written by 
Madame Campan to Louis XVIII., immediately after the 
first restoration. In this letter she enumerated the con- 

1 When one of the princes of the smaller German States was showing 
Marshal Lannes, with a contemptuous superiority of manner but ill con- 
cealed, the portraits of his ancestors, and covertly alluding to the absence 
of Lannes' s, that general turned the tables on him by haughtily remarking, 
" But I am an ancestor." 

2 Apropos of the merits of his various generals, Napoleon said : "I 
give the preference to Suchet. Before his time Mass^na was the first ; 
but he may be considered as dead. Suchet, Clausel, and Gerard are now 
in my opinion the best French generals." — Madame Junot's (Duchesse 
d'Abrantes) Metnoirs, edit. 1883, vol. iii. p. 291. 



Hi MEMOIR OF 



tents of the portfolio which Louis XVI. had placed under 
her care. When Napoleon read this letter, he said, " Let 
it be sent to the office of Foreign Affairs, it is an historical 
document." 

M iame Campan thus described a visit from the Czar 
of Russia: — "A few days after the battle of Paris the 
Emperor Alexander came to l^couen, and he did me 
the honour to breakfast with me. After showing him 
over the establishment I conducted him to the park, 
the most elevated point of which overlooked the plain 
of Saint Denis. 'Sire,' said I, 'from this point I saw 
the battle of Paris.' 'If,' rephed the Emperor, 'that 
battle had lasted two hours longer we should not have 
had a single cartridge at our disposal. We feared that 
we had been betrayed ; for on. arriving so precipitately 
before Paris all our plans were laid, and we did not expect 
the firm resistance we experienced.' I next conducted 
the Emperor to the chapel, and showed him the seats 
occupied by le connetable (the constable) of Montmorency, 
and la connetable (the constable's lady), when they went 
to hear mass. 'Barbarians like us,' observed the 
Emperor, ' would say la connetable and le connetable.^ 

"The Czar inquired into the most minute particulars 
respecting the establishment of Ecouen, and I felt great 
pleasure in answering his questions. I recollect having 
dwelt on several points which appeared to me to be very 
important, and which were in their spirit hostile to 
aristocratic principles. For example, I informed his 
Majesty that the daughters of distinguished and wealthy 
individuals and those of the humble and obscure mingled 
indiscriminately in the establishment. ' If,' said I, ' I 
were to observe the least pretension on account of the 
rank or fortune of parents I should immediately put an 
end to it. The most perfect equality is preserved; 



MADAME CAMPAN liii 



distinction is awarded only to merit and industry. The 
pupils are obliged to cut out and make all their own 
clothes. They are taught to clean and mend lace; and 
two at a time, they by turns, three times a week, cook 
and distribute food to the poor of the village,.. The 
young girls who have been brought up at Ecouen, or in 
my boarding-school at Saint Germain, are thoroughly 
acquainted with everything relating to household business, 
and they are grateful to me for having made that a part 
of their education. In my conversations with them I have 
always taught them that on domestic management depends 
the preservation or dissipation of their fortunes.' 

" The postmaster of Ecouen was in the courtyard at the 
moment when the Emperor, as he stepped into his 
carriage, told me he would send some sweetmeats for 
the pupils. I immediately communicated to them the 
intelligence, which was joyfully received; but the sweet- 
meats were looked for in vain. When Alexander set 
out for England he changed horses at Ecouen, and the 
postmaster said to him : ' Sire, the pupils of Ecouen 
are still expecting the sweetmeats which your Majesty 
promised them.' To which the Emperor replied that he 
had directed Saken to send them. The Cossacks had 
most likely devoured the sweetmeats, and the poor litde 
girls, who had been so highly flattered by the promise, 
never tasted them." 

A second house was formed at St. Denis, on the model 
of that of Ecouen. Perhaps Madame Campan might have 
hoped for a title to which her long labours gave her a right ; 
perhaps the superintendence of the two houses would have 
been but the fair recompense of her services ; but her 
fortunate years had passed : her fate was now to depend on 
the most important events. Napoleon had accumulated 
such a mass of power as no one but himself in Europe 



liv MEMOIR OF 



could overturn. France, content with thirty years of 
victories, in vain asked for peace and repose. The a. my 
which had triumphed in the sands of Egypt, on the 
summits of the Alps, and in the marshes of Holland, was 
to perish amidst the snows of Russia. Nations combined 
against a single man. The territory of France was invaded. 
The orphans of Ecouen, from the windows of the mansion 
which served as their asylum, saw in the distant plain the 
fires of the Russian bivouacs, and once more wept the 
deaths of their fathers. Paris capitulated. France hailed 
the return of the descendants of Henri IV. ; they reascended 
the throne so long filled by their ancestors, which the wisdom 
of an enlightened prince established on the empire of the 
laws.^ 

This moment, which diffused joy amongst the faithful 
servants of the royal family, and brought them the rewards 
of their devotion, proved to Madame Campan a period of 
bitter vexation. The hatred of her enemies had revived. 
The suppression of the school at Ecouen had deprived her 
of her position ; the most absurd calumnies followed her 
into her retreat; her attachment to the Queen was sus- 
pected ; she was accused not only of ingratitude but of 
perfidy. Slander has little effect on youth, but in the 
decline of life its darts are envenomed with a mortal poison. 
The wounds which Madame Campan had recei-'^ed were 
deep. Her sister, Madame Auguie, had destroyed herself: 
M. Rousseau, her brother-in-law, had perished, a victim of 
the reign of terror. In 1813 a dreadful accident had 

1 A lady, connected with the establishment of Saint Denis, told 
Madame Campan that Napoleon visited it during the Hundred Days, and 
that the pupils were so delighted to see him that they crowded round him, 
endeavouring to touch his clothes, and evincing the most extravagant 
joy. The matron endeavoured to silence them ; but Napoleon said, 
' ' Let them alone ; let them alone. This may weaken the head, but it 
strengthens the heart. ' ' 



MADAME CAMPAN Iv 

deprived her of her niece, Madame de Broc, one of the 
mos-. ' amiable and interesting beings that ever adorned the 
earth. Madame Campan seemed destined to behold those 
whom she loved go down to the grave before her. 

Beyond the waUs of the mansion of Ecouen, in the 
village which surrounds it, Madame Campan had taken a 
small house where she loved to pass a few hours in solitary 
retirement. There, at hberty to abandon herself to the 
memory of the past, the superintendent of the imperial 
estabhshment became, once more, for the moment, the 
first lady of the chamber to Marie Antoinette. To the few 
friends whom she admitted into this retreat she would show, 
with emotion, a plain muslin gown which the Queen had 
worn, and which was made from a part of Tippoo Saib's 
present. A cup, out of which Marie Antoinette had drunk ; 
a writing stand, which she had long used, were, in her eyes, 
of inestimable value ; and she has often been discovered 
sitting, in tears, before the portrait of her royal mistress. 

After so many troubles Madame Campan sought a 
peaceful retreat. Paris had become odious to her. She 
paid a visit to one of her most beloved pupils. Mademoiselle 
Crouzet, who had married a physician at Mantes, a man of 
talent, distinguished for his intelligence, frankness, and 
cordiality.^ Mantes is a cheerful place of residence, and 
the idea, of an abode there pleased her. A few intimate 
firiends formed a pleasant society, and she enjoyed a little 
tranquillity after so many disturbances. The revisal of her 
Memoirs^ the arrangement of the interesting anecdotes of 
which her Recollections were to consist, alone diverted her 
mind from the one powerful sentiment which attached" her 
to life. She lived only for her son. M. Campan deserved 

1 M. Maigne, physician to the infirmaries at Mantes. Madame 
Campan found in him a friend and comforter, of whose merit and affection 
she knew the value. 



Ivi MEMOIR OF 



the tenderness of his mother. No sacrifice had been spared 
for his education. After having pursued that course of 
study which, under the Imperial Government, produced 
men of such distinguished merit, he was waiting till time 
and circumstances should afford him an opportunity of 
devoting his services to his country. Although the state of 
his health was far from good, it did not threaten any rapid 
or premature decay ; he was, however, after a few days' 
illness, suddenly taken from his family. " I never witnessed 
so heartrending a scene," M. Maigne says, " as that which 
took place when Marechal Ney's lady, her niece, and 
Madame Pannelier, her sister, came to acquaint her with 
this misfortune.-^ When they entered her apartment she 
was in bed. All three at once uttered a piercing cry. The 
two ladies threw themselves on their knees, and kissed her 
hands, which they bedewed with tears. Before they could 
speak to her she read in their faces that she no longer 
possessed a son. At that instant her large eyes, opening 
wildly, seemed to wander. Her face grew pale, her features 
changed, her lips lost their colour, she struggled to speak, 
but uttered only inarticulate sounds, accompanied by piercing 
cries. Her gestures were wild, her reason was suspended. 
Every part of her being was in agony. To this state of 
anguish and despair no calm succeeded, until her tears 
began to flow. Friendship and the tenderest cares suc- 
ceeded for a moment in calming her grief, but not in 
diminishing its power. This violent crisis had disturbed 
her whole organisation. A cruel disorder, which required 
a still more cruel operation, soon manifested itself The 
presence of her family, a tour which she made in Switzer- 
land, a residence at Baden, and, above all, the sight, the 
tender and charming conversation of a person by whom she 

1 The wife of Mardchal Ney was a daughter of Madame Auguid, and 
had been an intimate friend of Hortense Beauharnais. 



MADAME CAMPAN Ivii 

was affectionately beloved, occasionally diverted her mind, 
and in a slight degree relieved her suffering." She under- 
went a serious operation, performed with extraordinary 
promptitude and the most complete success. No unfavour- 
able symptoms appeared; Madame Campan was thought 
to be restored to her friends : but the disorder was in the 
blood j it took another course ; the chest became affected. 
"From that moment," says M. Maigne, "I could never 
look on Madame Campan as living ; she herself felt that 
she belonged no more to this world." 

" My friend," she said to her physician the day before 
her death, "I am attached to the simphcity of religion. 
I hate all that savours of fanaticism." When her codicil 
was presented for her signature, her hand trembled; "It 
would be a pity," she said, "to stop when so fairly on the 
road." 

Madame Campan died on the i6th of March 1822. 
The cheerfulness she displayed throughout her malady had 
nothing affected in it. Her character was naturally power- 
ful and elevated. At the approach of death she evinced 
the soul of a sage, without abandoning for an instant her 
feminine character. 



NOTE. 

While this edition ivas passing through the press a last 
relic of Marie Antoinette was founds conjirmifig Mada^ne 
Campan's account of the spirit in which she bore her trials. 
In November 1886 an interesting discovery was made by M. 
Quentin-Bauchart^ of Chdlo?is-sur-Marne, on a bookstall of 
that town, no less than the " Office de la Divine Providence,'^ 
the sole comfort of the hapless Marie Antoinette i7i her weary 
captivity at the prisons of the Temple and Conciergerie. The 
book, the binding of which is much worn, contains on a fly- 
leaf the following inscription, dated October 16, 4.30 ^.:M. ;• — 
" Lord have pity on me I I can no longer weep save in spirit 
for you, O ?ny children! Farewell, farewell! — Marie 
Antoinette." 



THE PRIVATE LIFE 



OF 



MARIE ANTOINETTE 




THE PRIVATE LIFE 

OF 

MARIE ANTOINETTE 

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER 

The Court of Louis XV. — His character — The King's debotter — Char- 
acters of Mesdames his daughters — Retreat of Madame Louise to 
the Carmelites of Saint Denis — Madame du Barry — The Court 
divided between the party of Due de Choiseul and that of the Due 
d'Aiguillon. 

I WAS fifteen years of age when I was appointed Reader to 
Mesdames. I will begin by describing the Court at that 
period. 

Maria Leczinska was just dead ; the death of the Dauphin 
had preceded hers by three years; the Jesuits were suppressed, 
and piety was to be found at Court only in the apartments 
of Mesdames. The Due de Choiseul ruled. 

Etiquette still existed at Court with all the forms it had 
acquired under Louis XIV. ; dignity alone was wanting. 
As to gaiety, there was none. Versailles was not the place 
at which to seek for assemblies where French spirit and 
grace were displayed. The focus of wit and intelligence 
was Paris. 

The King thought of nothing but the pleasures of the 



2 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

chase : it might have been imagined that the courtiers 
indulged themselves in making epigrams by hearing them 
say seriously on those days when the King did not hunt, 
" The King does nothing to-day.'' ^ 

The arrangement beforehand of his movements was also 
a matter of great importance with Louis XV. On the first 
day of the year he noted down in his almanac the days of 
departure for Compiegne, Fontainebleau, Choisy, etc. 
The weightiest matters, the most serious events, never 
deranged this distribution of his time. 

Since the death of the Marquise de Pompadour, the King 
had no titled mistress ; he contented himself with his 
seraglio in the Parc-aux-Cerfs. It is well known that the 
monarch found the separation of Louis de Bourbon from the 
King of France the most animating feature of his royal exist- 
ence. They would have it so ; they thought it for the best., was his 
way of expressing himself when the measures of his ministers 
were unsuccessful. The King delighted to manage the most 
disgraceful points of his private expenses himself ; he one 
day sold to a head clerk in the War Department a house in 
which one of his mistresses had lodged ; the contract ran 
in the name of Louis de Bourbon ; and the purchaser himself 
took in a bag the price of the house in gold to the King in 
his private closet.^ 

1 In sporting usance (see aSoz^/^zV^, p. 316). 

2 Until recently little was known about the Parc-aux-Cerfs, and it was 
believed that a great number of young women had been maintained there 
at enormous expense. The investigations of M. J. A. Le Roi, given in 
his interesting work, CuriosiUs Historiques sur Louis XIIL, Louis XIV., 
Louis XV., etc., Paris, Plon, 1864, have thrown fresh hght upon the 
matter, the result he arrives at (see page 229 of his work) is that the house 
in question (No. 4 Rue Saint M^ddric on the site of the Parc-aux-Cerfs, or 
breeding-place for deer, of Louis XIII.) was very small and could 
only have held one girl, the woman in charge of her, and a servant. Most 
of the girls only left it when about to be confined, and it sometimes stood 
vacant for five or six months. It may have been rented before the date of 



LOUIS XV. AND HIS DAUGHTERS 



Louis XV. saw very little of his family ; he came every 
morning by a private staircase into the apartment of Madame 
Adelaide.^ He often brought and drank there coffee that 
he had made himself. Madame Adelaide pulled a bell which 
apprised Madame Victoire of the King's visit; Madame 
Victoire, on rising to go to her sister's apartment, rang for 
Madame Sophie, who in her turn rang for Madame Louise. 
The apartments of Mesdames were of very large dimensions. 
Madame Louise occupied the farthest room. This latter 
lady was deformed and very short : the poor Princess used 
to run with all her might to join the daily meeting, but, 
having a number of rooms to cross, she frequently, in spite 
of her haste, had only just time to embrace her father 
before he set out for the chase. 

Every evening at six Mesdames interrupted my reading 
to them to accompany the Princes to Louis XV. ; this visit 
was called the King's debotter^ and was marked by a kind 
of etiquette. Mesdames put on an enormous hoop, which 

purchase, and other houses seem sometimes to have been used also ; but 
in any case, it is evident that both the number of girls and the expense 
incurred have been absurdly exaggerated. The system flourished under 
Madame de Pompadour, but ceased as soon as Madame du Barry obtained 
full power over the King, and the house was then sold to M. J. B. Sdvin 
for 16,000 livres, on 27th May 1771, — Louis not acting under the name 
of Louis de Bourbon, but as King : Venfe par le Roi, ?iotre Sire, and who 
in 1755 had also been declared its purchaser in a similar manner. Thus, 
in this case at least, Madame Campan is in error in saying that the King 
made the contract as Louis de Bourbon, 

1 Louis XV. seemed to feel for Madame Adelaide the tenderness he had 
had for the Duchess of Burgundy, his mother, who perished so suddenly 
under the eyes and almost in the arms of Louis XIV. The birth of Madame 
Adelaide, 23d March 1732, was followed by that of Madame Victoire- 
Louise-Marie-Th^rese on the nth May 1773. Louis had, besides, six 
daughters, Mesdames Sophie and Louise, who are mentioned in this chapter ; 
the Princesses Marie and Fehcit^, who died young ; Madame Henriette, 
died at Versailles in 1752, aged twenty-four ; and finally, Madame the 
Duchess of Parma, who also died at the Court. 

^ Ddbotter, meaning the time of unbooting. 



4 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

set out a petticoat ornamented with gold or embroidery ; 
they fastened a long train round thieir waists, and concealed 
the undress of the rest of their clothing by a long cloak of 
black taffety which enveloped them up to the chin. The 
chevaliers d'honneur, the ladies-in-waiting, the pages, the 
equerries, and the ushers bearing large flambeaux, accom- 
panied them to the King. In a moment the whole 
Palace, generally so still, was in motion; the King 
kissed each Princess on the forehead, and the visit was 
so short that the reading which it interrupted was frequently 
resumed at the end of a quarter of an hour; Mesdames 
returned to their apartments, and untied the strings of 
their petticoats and trains ; they resumed their tapestry 
and I my book. 

During the summer season the King sometimes came to 
the residence of Mesdames before the hour of his debotter. 
One day he found me alone in Madame Victoire's closet, 
and asked me where Coche^ was ; I started, and he repeated 
his question, but without being at all the more understood. 
When the King was gone I asked Madame of whom he 
spoke. She told me that it was herself, and very, coolly 
explained to me, that, being the fattest of his daughters, the 
King had given her the familiar name of Coche, that he 
called Madame Adelaide, Loque,^ Madame Sophie, Graille^ 
and Madame Louise, Chiffe.^ The people of the King's 
household observed that he knew a great number of such 
words ; possibly he had amused himself with picking them 
out from dictionaries. If this style of speaking betrayed 
the habits and tastes of the King, his manner savoured 
nothing of such vulgarity ; his walk was easy and noble, he 
had a dignified carriage of the head, and his aspect, 
without being severe, was imposing; he combined great 
politeness with a truly regal demeanour, and gracefully 

1 Piggy. - Tatters. ^ Mjte. 4 Rubbish. 



THE king's accomplishments 5 

saluted the humblest female whom curiosity led into his 
path. 

He was very expert in a number of trifling matters 
which never occupy attention but when there is a lack of 
something better to employ it ; for instance, he would knock 
off the, top of an egg-shell at a single stroke of his fork, he 
therefore always ate eggs when he dined in public, and the 
Parisians who came on Sundays to see the King dine, 
returned home less struck with his fine figure than with the 
dexterity with which he broke his eggs. 

Repartees of Louis XV., which marked the keenness of 
his wit -and the elevation of his sentiments, were quoted with 
pleasure in the assemblies of Versailles. 

This Prince was still beloved ; it was wished that a style 
of life suitable to his age and dignity should at length 
supersede the errors of the past, and justify the love of his 
subjects. It was painful to judge him harshly. If he had 
estabhshed avowed mistresses at Court, the uniform devotion 
of the Queen was blamed for it. Mesdames were reproached 
for not seeking to prevent the King's forming an intimacy 
with some new favourite. Madame Henriette, twin sister 
of the Duchess of Parma, was much regretted, for she had 
considerable influence over the King's mind, and it was 
remarked that if she had Hved she would have been 
assiduous in finding him amusements in the bosom of his 
family, would have followed him in his short excursions, and 
would have done the honours of the petiis soiipers which he 
was so fond of giving in his private apartments. 

Mesdames too much neglected the means of pleasing the 
King, but the cause of that was obvious in the Httle attention 
he had paid them in their youth. 

In order to console the people under their sufferings, and 
to shut their eyes to the real depredations on the treasury, 
the ministers occasionally pressed the most extravagant 



6 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

measures of reform in the King's household, and even in his 
personal expenses. 

Cardinal Fleury, who in truth had the merit of re-estab- 
lishing the finances, carried this system of economy so far 
as to obtain from the King the suppression of the household 
of the four younger Princesses. They were brought up as 
mere boarders in a convent eighty leagues distant from the 
Court. Saint Cyr would have been more suitable for the 
reception of the King's daughters ; but probably the Cardinal 
shared some of those prejudices which will always attach to 
even the most useful institutions; and which, since the 
death of Louis XIV., had been raised against the noble 
estabhshment of Madame de Maintenon. Madame Louise 
often assured me that at twelve years of age she was not 
mistress of the whole alphabet, and never learnt to read 
fluently until after her return to Versailles. 

Madame Victoire attributed certain paroxysms of terror, 
which she was never able to conquer, to the violent alarms 
she experienced at the Abbey of Fontevrault, whenever she 
was sent, by way of penance, to pray alone in the vault 
where the sisters were interred. 

A gardener belonging to the abbey died raving mad. 
His habitation, without the walls, was near a chapel of the 
abbey, where Mesdames were taken to repeat the prayers 
for those in the aTgonies of death. Their prayers were more 
than once interrupted by the shrieks of the dying man. 

When Mesdames, still very young, returned to Court, 
they enjoyed the friendship of Monseigneur the Dauphin, 
and profited by his advice. They devoted themselves 
ardently to study, and gave up almost the whole of their 
time to it ; they enabled themselves to write French 
correctly, and acquired a good knowledge of history. 
Italian, English, the higher branches of mathematics, turning 
and dialling, filled up in succession their leisure moments. 



MADAME SOPHIE 



Madame Adelaide, in particular, had a most insatiable 
desire to learn ; she was taught to play upon all instruments; 
from the horn (will it be believed !) to the Jew's harp. 

Madame Adelaide was graced for a short time with a 
charming figure ; but never did beauty so quickly vanish. 
Madame Victoire was handsome and very graceful; her 
address, mien, and smile were in perfect accordance with 
the goodness of her heart. Madame Sophie was remarkably 
ugly j never did I behold a person with so unprepossessing 
an appearance ; she walked with the greatest rapidity ; and, 
in order to recognise the people who placed themselves 
along her path without looking at them, she acquired the 
habit of leering on one side, like a hare. This Princess was 
so exceedingly diffident that a person might be with her 
daily for years together without hearing her utter a single 
word. It was asserted, however, that she displayed talent, 
and even amiability, in the society of some favourite ladies. 
She taught herself a great deal, but she studied alone ; the 
presence of a reader would have disconcerted her very much. 
There were, however, occasions on which the Princess, 
generally so intractable, became all at once affable and con- 
descending, and manifested the most communicative good 
nature ; this would happen during a storm ; so great was 
her alarm on such an occasion that she then approached 
the most humble, and would ask them a thousand obliging 
questions ; a flash of lightning made her squeeze their hands \ 
a peal of thunder would drive her to embrace them, but 
with the return of the calm, the Princess resumed her 
stiffness, her reserve, and her repellent air, and passed all 
by without taking the slightest notice of any one, until a 
fresh storm restored to her at once her dread and her 
affability. 

Mesdames found in a beloved brother, whose rare 
attainments are known to all Frenchmen, a guide in every- 



8 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

thing wanting to their education. In their august mother, 
Maria Leczinska, they possessed the noblest example of 
every pious and social virtue ; that Princess, by her eminent 
qualities and her modest dignity, veiled the failings of the 
King, and while she lived she preserved in the Court of 
Louis XV. that decorous and dignified tone which alone 
secures the respect due to power. The Princesses, her 
daughters, were worthy of her ; and if a few degraded beings 
did aim the shafts of calumny at them, these shafts dropped 
harmless, warded off by the elevation of their sentiments and 
the purity of their conduct 

If Mesdames had not tasked themselves with numerous 
occupations, they would have been much to be pitied. 
They loved walking, but could enjoy nothing beyond the 
public gardens of Versailles ; they would have cultivated 
flowers, but could have no others than those in their 
windows. 

The Marquise de Durfort, since Duchesse de Civrac,^ 
afforded to Madame Victoire agreeable society. The 
Princess spent almost all her evenings with that lady, and 
ended by fancying herself domiciled with her. 

Madame de Narbonne had, in a similar way, taken pains 
to make her intimate acquaintance pleasant to Madame 
Adelaide. 

Madame Louise had for many years lived in great 
seclusion ; I read to her five hours a day ; my voice fre- 
quently betrayed the exhaustion of my lungs, the Princess 
would then prepare sugared water for me, place it by me, 
and apologise for making me read so long, on the score of 
having prescribed a course of reading for herself. 

1 Grandmother of two heroes of La Vendue, Lescure and La Eoche- 
Jaquelin, by the marriage of her eldest daughter with M. d'Onissan ; and 
of the unfortunate Lab6doyere, by the marriage of her second daughter 
with M. de Chastellux. — Madame Campan. 



MADAME VICTOIRE 



One evening, while I was reading, she was informed that 
M. Bertin, ministre des parties casuelles^ desired to speak 
with her; she went out abruptly, returned, resumed her 
silks and embroidery, and made me resume my book ; 
when I retired she commanded me to be in her closet the 
next morning at eleven o'clock. When I got there the 
Princess was gone out ; I learnt that she had gone at seven 
in the morning to the Convent of the Carmelites of Saint 
Denis, where she was desirous of taking the veil. I went 
to Madame Victoire ; there I heard that the King alone 
had been acquainted with Madame Louise's project ; that 
he had kept it faithfully secret, and that, having long pre- 
viously opposed her wish, he had only on the preceding 
evening sent her his consent \ that she had gone alone into 
the convent, where she was expected ; and that a few 
minutes afterwards she had made her appearance at the 
grating, to show to the Princesse de Guistel, who had accom- 
panied her to the convent-gate, and to her equerry, the 
King's order to leave her in the monastery. 

Upon receiving the intelligence of her sister's departure, 
Madame Adelaide gave way to violent paroxysms of rage, 
and reproached the King bitterly for the secret, which he 
had thought it his duty to preserve. Madame Victoire 
missed the society of her favourite sister, but she only shed 
tears in silence. The first time I saw this excellent 
Princess after Madame Louise's departure, I threw myself 
at her feet, kissed her hand, and asked her, with all the 
confidence of youth, whether she would quit us as Madame 
Louise had done. She raised me, embraced me, and said, 
pointing to the lounge upon which she was extended, 
" Make yourself easy, my dear ; I shall never have Louise's 
courage. I love the conveniences of life too well ; this 
lounge is my destruction^ As soon as I obtained permission 
to do so, I went to Saint Denis to see my late mistress ; 



lo PRIVA TE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

she deigned to receive me with her face uncovered, in her 
private parlour ; she told me she had just left the wash-house, 
and that it was her turn that day to attend to the linen. 
" I much abused your youthful lungs for two years before 
the execution of my project," added she. "I knew that 
here I could read none but books tending to our salvation, 
and I wished to review all the historians that had interested 
me." 

She informed me that the King's consent for her to go 
to Saint Denis had been brought to her while I was reading ; 
she prided herself, and with reason, upon having returned 
to her closet without the slightest mark of agitation, though 
she said she felt so keenly that she could scarcely regain 
her chair. She added that moralists were right when they 
said that happiness does not dwell in palaces ; that she had 
proved it; and that, if I desired to be happy, she advised 
me to come and enjoy a retreat in which the liveliest 
imagination might find full exercise in the contemplation 
of a better world. I had no palace, no earthly grandeur to 
sacrifice to God ; nothing but the bosom of a united family ; 
and it is precisely there that the moralists whom she cited 
have placed true happiness. I replied that, in private life, 
the absence of a beloved and cherished daughter would be 
too cruelly felt by her family. The Princess said no more 
on the subject.^ 

1 Les Souvenirs de Fdlicie contain the account of a visit to Saint Denis 
made by Madame de Genlis : — "Madame Louise permitted questions, 
and answered them shortly but kindly. I wanted to know what in her 
new state she found the hardest to accustom herself to. ' You would 
never guess it,' answered she, smiling ; ' it is to descend alone a back 
staircase. At first, ' added she, ' it was to me the most fearful precipice. 
I was obliged to seat myself on the steps, and slide down in order to 
descend.' In fact, a Princess who had only descended the grand marble 
staircase of Versailles, leaning on the arm of her chevalier d'honneur, and 
surrounded by her pages, would tremble at finding herself left alone on a 
steep spiral staircase. She knew long before all the austerities of the 



THE ROYAL NUN 



The seclusion of Madame Louise was attributed to 
various motives ; some were unkind enough to suppose it 
to have been occasioned by her mortification at being, in 
point of rank, the last of the Princesses. I think I pene- 
trated the true cause. Her aspirations were lofty; she 
loved everything sublime; often while I was reading she 
would interrupt me to exclaim, " That is beautiful ! that is 
noble 1" There was but one brilliant action that she could 
perform — to quit a palace for a cell, and rich garments for a 
stuff gown. She achieved it ! 

I saw Madame Louise two or three times more at the 
grating, I was informed of her death by Louis XVL 
" My aunt Louise," said he to me, '' your old mistress, is 
just dead at Saint Denis. I have this moment received 
intelligence of it. Her piety and resignation were admirable, 
and yet the delirium of my good aunt recalled to her 
recollection that she was a princess, for her last words were, 
' To paradise^ haste, haste, full speeds No doubt she thought 
she was again giving orders to her equerry."^ 

religious life. For ten years she had secretly practised most of them in 
the Chateau of Versailles, but she had never thought of small staircases. 
This may well cause reflection on the education, ridiculous on so many 
accounts, that persons of this rank generally receive, who, always followed, 
helped, escorted, prompted, guarded from their childhood, are thus 
deprived of the greatest part of the faculties that nature has given them." 

1 The retirement of Madame Louise, and her removal from Court, had 
only served to give her up entirely to the intrigues of the clergy. She 
received incessant visits from bishops, archbishops, and ambitious priests 
of every rank ; she prevailed on the King, her father, to grant many 
ecclesiastical preferments, and probably looked forward to plajring an 
important part when the King, weary of his licentious course of life, should 
begin to think of rehgion. This, perhaps, might have been the case had 
not a sudden and unexpected death put an end to his career. The project 
of Madame Louise fell to the ground in consequence of this event. She 
remained in her convent, from whence she continued to soHcit favours, as 
I knew from the complaints of the Queen, who often said to me, ' ' Here is 
another letter from my aunt Louise. She is certainly the most intriguing 



12 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Madame Victoire, good, sweet-tempered, and affable, 
lived with the most amiable simplicity in a society wherein 
she was much caressed : she was adored by her household. 
Without quitting Versailles, without sacrificing her easy 
chair, she fulfilled the duties of religion with punctuality, 
gave to the poor all that she possessed, and strictly observed 
Lent and the fasts. The table of Mesdames acquired a 
reputation for dishes of abstinence, spread abroad by the 
assiduous parasites at that of their maitre d'hotel. Madame 
Victoire was not indifferent to good living, but she had the 
most religious scruples respecting dishes of which it was 
allowable to partake at penitential times. I saw her one 
day exceedingly tormented by her doubts about a water-fowl, 
which was often served up to her during Lent. The 
question to be determined was, whether it was maigre or 
gras. She consulted a bishop, who happened to be of the 
party : the prelate immediately assumed the grave attitude 
of a judge who is about to pronounce sentence. He 
answered the Princess that, in a similar case of doubt, it 
had been resolved that after dressing the bird it should be 
pricked over a very cold silver dish: if the gravy of the 
animal congealed within a quarter of an hour, the creature 
was to be accounted flesh ; but if the gravy remained in an 
oily state, it might be eaten without scruple. Madame 
Victoire immediately made the experiment : the gravy did 
not congeal \ and this was a source of great joy to the 
Princess, who was very partial to that sort of game. The 
abstinence which so much occupied the attention of Madame 
Victoire was so disagreeable to her, that she listened with 

little Carmelite in the kingdom." The Court went to visit her about three 
times a year, and I recollect that the Queen, intending to take her daughter 
there, ordered me to get a doll dressed like a Carmelite for her, that the 
young Princess might be accustomed, before she went into the convent, to 
the habit of her aunt the nun. — Madame Ca?npan. 



MADAME ADELAIDE 



impatience for the midnight hour of Holy Saturday being 
struck ; and then she was immediately supplied with a good 
-dish of fowl and rice, and sundry other succulent viands. 
She confessed with such amiable candour her taste for good 
cheer and the comforts of life, that it would have been 
necessary to be as severe in principle as insensible to the 
excellent qualities of the Princess, to consider it a crime in 
her. 

Madame Adelaide had more mind than Madame 
Victoire ; but she was altogether deficient in that kindness 
which alone creates affection for the great : abrupt manners, 
a harsh voice, and a short way of speaking, rendering her 
more than imposing. She carried the idea of the preroga- 
tive of rank to a high pitch. One of her chaplains was 
unlucky enough to say Dominus vobiscum with rather too 
e'asy an air : the Princess rated him soundly for it after 
mass, and told him to remember that he was not a bishop, 
and not again to think of officiating in the style of a 
prelate. 

Mesdames lived quite separate from the King. Since 
the death of Madame de Pompadour he had lived alone. 
The enemies of the Due de Choiseul did not know in what 
department, nor through what channel, they could prepare 
and bring about the downfall of the man who stood in their 
way. The King was connected only with women of so low 
a class that they could not be made use of for any delicate 
intrigue; moreover the Parc-aux-Cerfs was a seraglio, the 
beauties of which were often replaced; it was desirable to 
give the King a mistress who could form a circle, and in 
whose drawing-room the long-standing attachment of the 
King for the Due de Choiseul might be overcome. It is 
true that Madame du Barry was selected from a class 
sufficiently low. Her origin, her education, her habits, and 
everything about her bore a character of vulgarity and 



14 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

shamelessness ; but by marrying her to a man whose 
pedigree dated from 1400, it was thought scandal would be 
avoided. The conqueror of Mahon conducted this coarse 
intrigue. ^ Such a mistress was judiciously selected for the 
diversion of the latter years of a man weary of grandeur, 
fatigued with pleasure, and cloyed with voluptuousness. 
Neither the wit, the talents, the graces of the Marquise de 
Pompadour, her beauty, nor even her love for the King, 
would have had any further influence over that worn-out 
being. 

He wanted a Roxalana of familiar gaiety, without any 
respect for the dignity of the sovereign. Madame du Barry 
one day so far forgot propriety as to desire to be present at 
a Council of State. The King was weak enough to consent 
to it. There she remained ridiculously perched upon the 
arm of his chair, playing all sorts of childish monkey tricks, 
calculated to please an old sultan. 

Another time she snatched a packet of sealed letters 
from the King's hand. Among them she had observed 
one from Comte de Broglie. She told the King that she 
knew that rascal Broglie spoke ill of her to him, and that 
for once, at least, she would make sure he should read 
nothing respecting her. The King wanted to get the 
packet again ; she resisted, and made him run two or 
three times roiind the table, which was in the middle of 
the council-chamber, and then, on passing the fireplace, 

^ It appeared at this period as if every feeling of dignity was lost. 
"Few noblemen of the French Court," says a writer of the time, "pre- 
served themselves from the general corruption. The Mar^chal de Brissac 
was one of the latter. He was bantered on the strictness of his principles 
of honour and honesty ; it was thought strange that he should be offended 
by being thought, hke so many others, exposed to hymeneal disgrace. 
Louis XV. , who was present, and laughed at his angry fit, said to him : 
' Come, M. de Brissac, don't be angry ; 'tis but a trifling evil ; take 
courage.' 'Sire,' replied M. de Brissac, 'I possess all kinds of courage, 
except that which can brave shame.' " — Note by the Editor. 



PRESUMPTION OF MADAME DU BARRY 15 

she threw the letters into the grate, where they were 
consumed. The King became furious; he seized his 
audacious mistress by the arm, and put her out of the 
door without speaking to her. Madame du Barry thought 
herself utterly disgraced ; she returned home, and remained 
two hours, alone, abandoned to the utmost distress. The 
King went to her : she threw herself at his feet, in tears, 
and he pardoned her. 

Madame la Marechale de Beauvau, the Duchesse de 
Choiseul, and the Duchesse de Grammont had renounced 
the honour of the King's intimate acquaintance rather than 
share it with Madame du Barry. But a few years after the 
death of Louis XV., Madame la Marechale, being alone at 
the Val, a house belonging to M. de Beauvau, Mademoiselle 
de Dillon saw the Countess's calash take shelter in the forest 
oC Saint Germain during a violent storm. She invited her 
in, and the Countess herself related these particulars, which 
I had from Madame de Beauvau.^ 

The Comte du Barry, surnamed le roue (the profligate), 
and Mademoiselle du Barry ^ advised, or rather prompted, 
Madame du Barry in furtherance of the plans of the 
party of the Marechal de Richelieu and the Due d'Aiguillon. 

1 Chamfort gives a different version of Madame du Barry's visit to the 
Val. "Madame du Barry," says he, " being at Vincennes, was curious 
to see the Val. Madame de Beauvau was amused at the idea of going 
there and doing the honours. She talked of what had happened under 
Louis XV. Madame du Barry was complaining of various matters, which 
appeared to show that she was personally detested. ' By no means,' said 
Madame de Beauvau, 'we aimed at nothing but your place.' After this 
frank confession Madame du Barry was asked if Louis XV. did not say 
a great deal against her (Madame de Beauvau) and Madame de Grammont, 
'Oh! a great deal,' — 'Well, and what of me, for instance?' — 'Of you, 
madame ? That you are haughty and intriguing, and that you lead your 
husband by the nose. ' M. de Beauvau was present. The conversation 
was soon changed." — Note by the Editor. 

2 The Comte Jean du Barry and Mademoiselle Claire du Barry, brother 
and sister-in-law of Madame du Barry, 



1 6 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Sometimes they even set her to act in such a way as to 
have a useful influence upon great political measures. 
Under pretence that the page who accompanied Charles I. 
in his flight was a Du Barry or Barrymore, they persuaded 
the Comtesse du Barry to buy in London that fine portrait 
which we now have in the Museum. She had the picture 
placed in her drawing-room, and when she saw the King 
hesitating upon the violent measure of breaking up his 
ParHament, and forming that which was called the Maupeou 
Parliament, she desired him to look at the portrait of a 
king who had given way to his Parliament.^ 

1 The Meinoirs of General Dumouriez, vol. i,, page 142, contain some 
curious particulars about Madame du Barry ; and novel details respecting 
her will be found at page 243 of CuriosiUs Historiques, by J. A. Le Roi 
(Paris, Plon, 1864). His investigations lead to the result that her real 
name was Jeanne B^cu, born, 19th August 1743, at Vaucouleurs, the 
natural daughter of Anne B6cu, otherwise known as "Quantiny. " Her 
mother afterwards married Nicolas Rancon. Comte Jean du Barry met 
her among the demi-monde, and succeeded, about 1767, and by the help 
of his friend Lebel, the valet de chamhre of Louis XV. , in introducing her to 
the King under the name of Mademoiselle I'Ange." To be formally mistress 
a husband had to be found. The Comte Jean du Barry, already married 
himself, found no difificulty in getting his brother, Comte Guillaume, a poor 
officer of the marine troops, to accept the post of husband. In- the mar- 
riage-contract, signed on 23d July 1768, she was described as the daughter 
of Anne B6cu and of an imaginary first husband, ' ' Sieur Jean - Jacques 
Gomard de Vaubernier," and three years were taken off her age. The 
marriage-contract was so drawn as to leave Madame du Barry entirely 
free from all control by her husband. The marriage was solemnised on 
ist September 1768, after which the nominal husband returned to Toulouse. 
Madame du Barry in later years provided for him ; and in 1772, tired of 
his applications, she obtained an act of separation from him. He married 
later Jeanne Madeleine Lemoine, and died in 181 1. Madame du Barry 
took care of her mother, who figured as Madame de Montrable. In all 
she received from the King, Monsieur Le Roi calculates, about twelve and 
a half million of livres. On the death of Louis XV. she had to retire first 
to the Abbey of Pont-aux-Dames, near Meaux, then she was allowed to go to 
her small house at Saint Vrain, near Arpajon, and finally, in 1775, to her 
ch§.teau at Louveciennes. Much to her credit be it said, she retained 
many of her friends, and was on the most intimate terms till his death 



THE AUSTRIAN BRIDE 17 

The men of ambition who were labouring to overthrow 
the Due de Choiseul strengthened themselves by their 
concentration at the house of the favourite, and succeeded 
in their project. The bigots, who never forgave that 
minister the suppression of the Jesuits, and who had 
always been hostile to a treaty of alliance with Austria, 
influenced the minds of Mesdames. The Due de La 
Vauguyon, the young Dauphin's governor, infected them 
with the same prejudices. 

Such was the state of the public mind when the young 
Archduchess Marie Antoinette arrived at the Court of 
Versailles, just at the moment when the party which 
brought her there was about to be overthrown. 

Madame Adelaide openly avowed her dislike to a 
princess of the House of Austria ; and when M. Campan, 
my father-in-law, went to receive his orders, at the moment 
of setting off with the household of the Dauphiness, to go 
and receive the iVrchduchess upon the frontiers, she said 
she disapproved of the marriage of her nephew with an 
archduchess -^ and that, if she had the direction of the 
matter, she would not send for an Austrian. 

with the Due de Brissac (Louis-Hercule-Timoldon de Coss6-Brissac), who 
was killed at Versailles in the massacre of the prisoners in September 
1792, leaving at his death a large legacy to her. Even the Emperor 
Joseph visited her. In 1791 many of her jewels were stolen and taken to 
England. This caused her to make several visits to that country, where 
she gained her suit. But these visits, though she took every precaution 
to legaHse them, ruined her. Betrayed by her servants, among them by 
Zamor, the negro page, she was brought before the Revolutionary tribunal, 
and was guillotined on 8th December 1793, in a frenzy of terror, calling 
for mercy and for delay up to the moment when her head fell. 

1 It is said that the Commander of the Faithful, on receiving the decree 
of the Convention which ordained the abolition of royalty in France, could 
not help saying, "At least the Republic will not marry an archduchess." 



CHAPTER I 

Birth of Marie Antoinette attended by a memorable calamity — Maria 
Theresa's character — Education of the Archduchesses — Preceptors 
provided for Marie Antoinette by the Court of Vienna — Preceptor 
sent her by the Court of France — Abbe de Vermond — Change 
in the French Ministry — Cardinal de Rohan succeeds Baron de 
Breteuil as Ambassador at Vienna — Portrait of that prelate. 

Marie-Antoinette-Josephe-Jeanne de Lorraine, Arch- 
duchess of Austria, daughter of Francis of Lorraine and of 
Maria Theresa, was born on the 2d of November 1755, 
the day of the earthquake at Lisbon ; and this catastrophe, 
which appeared to stamp the era of her birth with a fatal 
mark, without forming a motive for superstitious fear with 
the Princess, nevertheless made an impression upon her 
mind. As the Empress already had a great number of 
daughters, she ardently desired to have another son, and 
playfully wagered against her wish with the Due de 
Tarouka, who had insisted that she would give birth to an 
archduke. He lost by the birth of the Princess, and had 
executed in porcelain a figure with one knee bent on the 
earth, and presenting tablets, upon which the following 
lines by Metastasio were engraved : — 

" /lose by your fair daughter's birth 
Who prophesied a son — 
But if she share her mother's worth, 
Why, all the world has won ! " 

The Queen was fond of talking of the first years of her 



EARL V DA YS OF THE DA UPHINESS 19 

youth. Her father, the Emperor Francis, had made a 
deep impression upon her heart ; she lost him when she 
was scarcely seven years old. One of those circumstances 
which fix themselves strongly in the memories of children 
frequently recalled his last caresses to her. The Emperor 
was setting out for Innspruck; he had already left his 
palace, when he ordered a gentleman to fetch the Arch- 
duchess Marie Antoinette, and bring her to his carriage. 
When she came, he stretched out his arms to receive her, 
and said, after having pressed her to his bosom, "I wanted 
to embrace this child once more." The Emperor died 
suddenly during the journey, and never saw his beloved 
daughter again. 

The Queen often spoke of her mother, and with pro- 
found respect, but she based all her schemes for the educa- 
tion of her children on the essentials which had been 
neglected in her own. Maria Theresa, who inspired awe 
by her great qualities, taught the Archduchesses to fear and 
respect rather than to love her ; at least I observed this in 
the Queen's feelings towards her august mother. She there- 
fore never desired to place between her own children and 
herself that distance which had existed in the imperial 
family. She cited a fatal consequence of it, which had 
made such a powerful impression upon her that time had 
never been able to efface it. 

The wife of the Emperor Joseph II. was taken from him 
in a few days by an attack of smallpox of the most virulent 
kind. Her coffin had recently been deposited in the vault 
of the imperial family. The Archduchess Josepha, who 
had been betrothed to the King of Naples, at the instant 
she was quitting Vienna received an order from the 
Empress not to set off without having offered up a prayer 
in the vault of her forefathers. The Archduchess, persuaded 
that she should take the disorder to which her sister-in-law 



20 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

had just fallen a victim, looked upon this order as her 
death-warrant. She loved the young Archduchess Marie 
Antoinette tenderly; she took her upon her knees, 
embraced her with tears, and told her she was aboiit to 
leave her, not for Naples, but never to see her again ; that 
she was going down chen to the tomb of her ancestors, and 
that she should shortly go again there to remain. Her 
anticipation was realised ; confluent smallpox carried her 
off in a very few days, and her youngest sister ascended the 
throne of Naples in her place. 

The Empress was too much taken up with high political 
interests to have it in her power to devote herself to 
maternal attentions. The celebrated Wansvietten, her 
physician, went daily to visit the young imperial family, and 
afterwards to Maria Theresa, and gave the most minute 
details respecting the health of the Archdukes and Arch- 
duchesses, whom she herself sometimes did not see for eight 
or ten days at a time. As soon as the arrival of a stranger 
of rank at Vienna was made known, the Empress brought 
her family about her, admitted them to her table, and by 
this concerted meeting induced a belief that she herself 
presided over the education of her children. 

The chief governesses, being under no fear of inspection 
from Maria Theresa, aimed at making themselves beloved 
by their pupils by the common and blamable practice of 
indulgence, so fatal to the future progress and happiness of 
children. Marie Antoinette was the cause of her governess 
being dismissed, through a confession that all her copies 
and all her letters were invariably first traced out with 
pencil ; the Comtesse de Brandes was appointed to succeed 
her, and fulfilled her duties with great exactness and talent. 
The Queen looked upon having been confided to her care 
so late as a misfortune, and always continued upon terms 
of friendship with that lady. The education of Marie 



MARIA THERESA AND HER CHILDREN 21 

Antoinette was certainly very much neglected. With the 
exception of the Italian language, all that related to belles 
lettres, and particularly to history, even that of her own 
country, was almost entirely unknown to her. This was 
soon found out at the Court of France, and thence arose 
the generally received opinion that she was deficient in 
sense. It will be seen in the course- of these Memoirs 
whether that opinion was well or ill founded. The public 
prints, however, teemed with assertions of the superior 
talents of Maria Theresa's children. They often noticed 
the answers which the young Princesses gave in Latin 
to the harangues addressed to them; they uttered them, 
it is true, but without understanding them ; they knew 
not a single word of that language. 

Mention was one day made to the Queen of a drawing 
made by her, and presented by the Empress to M. Gerard, 
chief clerk of Foreign Affairs, on the occasion of his going 
to Vienna to draw up the articles for her marriage-contract. 
"I should blush," said she, "if that proof of the quackery 
of my education were shown to me. I do not believe that 
I ever put a pencil to that drawing." However, what 
had been taught her she knew perfectly well. Her facility 
of learning was inconceivable, and if all her teachers had 
been as well informed and as faithful to their duty as the 
Abbe Metastasio, who taught her Italian, she would have 
attained as great a superiority in the other branches of her 
education. The Queen spoke that language with grace and 
ease, and translated the most difficult poets. She did not 
write French correctly, but she spoke it with the greatest 
fluency, and even affected to say that she had lost German. 
In fact she attempted in 1787 to learn her mother-tongue, 
and took lessons assiduously for six weeks ; she was obliged 
to relinquish them, finding all the difficulties which a 
Frenchwoman, who should take up the study too late, 



22 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

would have to encounter. In the same manner she gave 
up English, which I had taught her for some time, and in 
which she had made rapid progress. Music was the 
accomplishment in which the Queen most delighted. She 
did not play well on any instrument, but she had become 
able to read at sight like a first-rate professor. She attained 
this degree of perfection in France, this branch of her 
education having been neglected at Vienna as much as the 
rest. A few days after her arrival at Versailles, she was 
introduced to her singing-master. La Garde, author of the 
opera of Egle. She made a distant appointment with him, 
needing, as she said, rest after the fatigues of the journey 
and the numerous /^/^^ which had taken place at Versailles; 
but her motive was her desire to conceal how ignorant she 
was of the rudiments of music. She asked M. Campan 
whether his son, who was a good musician, could give her 
lessons secretly for three months. "The Dauphiness," 
added she, smiling, "must be careful of the reputation of 
the Archduchess." The lessons were given privately, and at 
the end of three months of constant application she sent 
for M. la Garde, and surprised him by her skill. 

The desire to perfect Marie Antoinette in the study of 
the French language was probably the motive which deter- 
mined Maria Theresa to provide for her as teachers two 
French actors : Aufresne, for pronunciation and declama- 
tion, and Sainville for taste in French singing ; the latter 
had been an officer in France, and bore a bad character. 
The choice gave just umbrage to our Court. The Marquis 
de Durfort, at that time ambassador at Vienna, was ordered 
to make a representation to the Empress upon her selection. 
The two actors were dismissed, and the Princess required 
that an ecclesiastic should be sent to her. Several eminent 
ecclesiastics decHned taking upon themselves so delicate an 
office ; others who were pointed out by Maria Theresa 



THE ARCHDUCHESS AND HER TUTOR 23 

(among the rest the Abbe Grisel) belonged to parties which 
sufficed to exclude them. 

The Archbishop of Toulouse^ one day went to. the Due 
de Choiseul at the moment when he was much embarrassed 
upon the subject of this nomination ; he proposed to him 
the Abbe de Yermond, Ubrarian of the College des Quatre 
Nations. The eulogistic manner in which' he spoke of his 
protege procured the appointment for the latter oh that very 
day j and the gratitude of the Abbe de Vermond towards 
the prelate -v^as very fatal to France, inasmuch as after 
seventeen years of persevering attempts to bring him into 
the ministry, he succeeded at last in getting him named 
Comptroller-General and President of the Council. 

This Abbe de Vermond directed almost all the Queen's 
actions. He established his influence over her at an age 
when impressions are most durable \ and it was easy to see 
that he had taken pains only to render himself beloved by 
his pupil, and had troubled himself very little with the care 
of instructing her. He might have even been accused of 
having, by a sharp-sighted though culpable policy, purposely 
left her in ignorance. Marie Antoinette spoke the French 
language with much grace, but wrote it less perfectly. The 
Abbe de Vermond revised all the letters which she sent to 
Vienna. The insupportable folly with which he boasted of 
it displayed the character of a man more flattered at being 
admitted into her intimate secrets than anxious to fulfil 
worthily the high office of her preceptor.^ 

■1 Etienne de Lom^nie, Comte de frienne (1727-1794), afterwards 
Archbishop of Sens. 

2 The Abb6 de Vermond encouraged the impatience of etiquette shown 
by Marie Antoinette while she was Dauphiness. When she became Queen 
he endeavoured openly to induce her to shake off the restraints she still 
respected. If he chanced to enter her apartment at the time she was 
preparing to go out, "For whom," he would say in a tone of raillery, "is 
this detachment of warriors which I found in the court ? Is it some general 



24 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

His pride received its birth at Vienna, where Maria 
Theresa, as much to give him authority with the Arch- 
duchess as to make herself acquainted with his character, 
permitted him to mix every evening with the private circle 
of her family, into which the future Dauphiness had been 
admitted for some time. Joseph II., the elder Arch- 
duchesses, and a few noblemen honoured by the confidence 
of Maria Theresa, composed the party; and reflections on 
the world, on courts, and the duties of princes were the 
usual topics of conversation. The Abbe de Vermond, in 
relating these particulars, confessed the means which he had 
made use of to gain admission into this private circle. The 
Empress, meeting him at the Archduchess's, asked him if he 
had formed any connections in Vienna ? " None, Madame," 
replied he; "the apartment^ of the Archduchess and the 
hotel of the ambassador of France are the only places which 
the man honoured with the care of the Princess's education 
should frequent." A month afterwards Maria Theresa, 
through a habit common enough among sovereigns, asked 
him the same question, and received precisely the same 
answer. The next day he received an order to join the 
imperial family every evening. 

It is extremely probable, from the constant and well- 
known intercourse between this man and Comte de Mercy, 
ambassador of the Empire during the whole reign of Louis 
XVL, that he was useful to the Court of Vienna,^ and that 

going to inspect his army ? Does all this military display become a young 
Queen adored by her subjects ?" He would call to her mind the simplicity 
with which Maria Theresa lived ; the visits she made without guards, or 
even attendants, to the Prince d'Esterhazy, to the Comte de Palii, passing 
whole days far from the fatiguing ceremonies of the Court. The Abb6 
thus artfully flattered the inclinations of Marie Antoinette ; and showed her 
how she might disguise, even from herself, her aversion from the cere- 
monies observed by the descendants of Louis XIV. — Madame Catnpan. 

^ A person who had dined with the Abb6 one day at the Comte de 
Mercy's said to that ambassador, ' ' How can you bear that tiresome 



THE ABBE. DE VERMOND 25 

he often caused the Queen to decide on measures, the con- 
sequences of which she did not consider. Not of high 
birth, ^ imbued with all the principles of the modern 
philosophy, and "yet holding to the hierarchy of the Church 
more tenaciously than any other ecclesiastic \ vain, talkative, 
and at the same time cunning and abrupt ; very ugly and 
affecting singularity ; treating the most exalted persons as 
his equals, sometimes even as his inferiors, the Abbe de 
Vermond received ministers and bishops when in his bath ; 
but said at the same time that Cardinal Dubois was a fool ; 
that a man such as he, having obtained power, ought to 
make cardinals, and refuse to be one himself. 

Intoxicated with the reception he had met with at the 
Court of Vienna, and having till then seen nothing of high life, 
the Abbe de Vermond admired no other customs than those of 
the imperial family ; he ridiculed the etiquette of the House 
of Bourbon incessantly ; the young Dauphiness was con- 
stantly incited by his sarcasms to get rid of it, and it was he 
who first induced her to suppress an infinity of practices of 
which he could discern neither the prudence nor the 
political aim. Such is the faithful portrait of that man 
whom the evil star of Marie Antoinette had reserved to 
guide her first steps upon a stage so conspicuous and so full 
of danger as that of the Court of Versailles. 

It will be thought, perhaps, that I draw the character of 
the Abbe de Vermond too unfavourably; but how can I 
view with any complacency one who, after having arrogated 
to himself the office of confidant and sole counsellor of the 

babbler?" "How can you ask it?" replied M. de Mercy; "you could 
answer the question yourself: it is because I want him." — Madame 
Catnpan. 

1 The Abbd de Vermond was the son of a village surgeon, and brother 
of an accoucheur, who had acted in that capacity for the Queen : when he 
was with her Majesty, in speaking to his brother, he never addressed him 
otherwise than as Monsieur 1' Accoucheur. — Mada7ne Campan. 



26 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Queen, guided her with so little prudence, and gave us the 
mortification of seeing that Princess blend, with qualities 
which charmed all that surrounded her, errors alike injurious 
to her glory and her happiness ? 

While M. de Choiseul, satisfied with the person whom 
M. de Brienne had presented, despatched him to Vienna 
with every eulogium calculated to inspire unbounded con- 
fidence, the Marquis de Durfort sent off a hairdresser and a 
few French fashions ; and then it was thought sufficient 
pains had been taken to form the character of a princess 
destined to share the throne of France. 

The marriage of Monseigneur the Dauphin with the 
Archduchess was determined upon during the administration 
of the Due de Choiseul. The Marquis de Durfort, who was 
to succeed the Baron de Breteuil in the embassy to Vienna, 
was appointed proxy for the marriage ceremony ; but six 
months after the Dauphin's marriage the Due de Choiseul 
was disgraced, and Madame de Marsan and Madame de 
Guemenee, who grew more powerful through the Duke's 
disgrace, conferred that embassy upon Prince Louis de 
Rohan, afterwards cardinal and grand almoner. 

Hence it will be seen that the Gazette de France is a 
sufficient answer to those libellers who dared to assert that 
the young Archduchess was acquainted with the Cardinal 
de Rohan before the period of her marriage. A worse 
selection in itself, or one more disagreeable to Maria 
Theresa, than that which sent to her in quality of ambassador 
a man so frivolous and so immoral as Prince Louis de Rohan 
could not have been made. He possessed but superficial 
knowledge upon any subject, and was totally ignorant of 
diplomatic affairs. His reputation had gone before him to 
Vienna, and his mission opened under the most unfavour- 
able auspices. In want of money, and the House of Rohan 
being unable to make him any considerable advances, he 



PRINCE LOUIS DE ROHAN 27 

obtained from his Court a patent which authorised him to 
borrow the sum of 600,000 hvres upon his benefices, ran 
in debt above a milHon, and thought to dazzle the city and 
Court of Vienna by the most indecent and ill-judged ex- 
travagance. He formed a suite of eight or ten gentlemen 
of names sufficiently high-sounding ; twelve pages equally 
well born, a crowd of officers and servants, a company of 
chamber musicians, etc. But this idle pomp did not last ; 
embarrassment and distress soon showed themselves ; his 
people, no longer receiving pay, in order to make money 
abused the privileges of ambassadors, and smuggled^ with 
so much effrontery that Maria Theresa, to put a stop to it 
without offending the Court of France, was compelled to 
suppress the privileges in this respect of all the diplomatic 
bodies, a step which rendered the person and conduct of 
Prince Louis odious in every foreign Court. He seldom 
obtained private audiences from the Empress, who did not 
esteem him, and who expressed herself without reserve upon 
his conduct both as a bishop and as an ambassador. He 
thought to obtain favour by assisting to effect the marriage 
of the Archduchess Elizabeth, the elder sister of Marie 
Antoinette, with Louis XV., an affair which was awkwardly 
undertaken, and of which Madame du Barry had no 
difficulty in causing the failure. I have deemed it my duty 
to omit no particular of the moral and political character of 
a man whose existence was subsequently so injurious to the 
reputation of Marie Antoinette. 

1 I have often heard the Queen say that, at Vienna, in the ofifice of the 
secretary of the Prince de Rohan, there were sold in one year more silk 
stockings than at Lyons and Paris together. — Madame Cainpan. 



CHAPTER II 

Arrival of the Archduchess in France — Brilliant reception of the 
Dauphiness at Versailles — She charms Louis XV. — Madame du 
Barry's jealousy — Court intrigues — The Dauphin — His brothers 
and their wives. 

A SUPERB pavilion had been prepared upon the frontier 
near Kehl. It consisted of a vast salon^ connected with 
two apartments, one of which was assigned to the lords and 
ladies of the Court of Vienna, and the other to the suite of 
the Dauphiness, composed of the Comtesse de Noailles, 
her lady of honour \ the Duchesse de Cot^se, her dame 
d^atours; four ladies of the Palace; the Comte de Saulx- 
Tavannes, chevalier d'honneur ; the Comte de Tesse, first 
equerry ; the Bishop of Chartres, first almoner ; the officers 
of the Body Guard, and the equerries. 

When the Dauphiness had been entirely undressed, in 
order that she rhight retain nothing belonging to a foreign 
court (an etiquette always observed on such an occasion), 
the doors were opened ; the young Princess came forward, 
looking round for the Comtesse de Noailles \ then, rushing 
into her arms, she implored her, with tears in her eyes, and 
with heartfelt sincerity, to be her guide and support. 

While doing justice to the virtues of the Comtesse de 
Noailles, those sincerely attached to the Queen have always 
considered it as one of her earliest misfortunes not to have- 
found, in the person of her adviser, a woman indulgent. 



THE MARRIAGE OF THE DAUPHIN 29 



enlightened, and administering good advice with that 
amiability which disposes young persons to follow it. 
The Comtesse de Noailles had nothing agreeable in her 
appearance ; her demeanour was stiff and her mien severe. 
She was perfect mistress of etiquette ; but she wearied the 
young Princess with it, without making her sensible of its 
importance. It would have been sufficient to represent to 
the Dauphiness that in France her dignity depended much 
upon customs not necessary at Vienna to secure the respect 
and love of the good and submissive Austrians for the 
imperial family, but the Dauphiness was perpetually 
tormented by the remonstrances of the Comtesse de 
Noailles; and at the same time caused by the Abbe 
de Vermond to ridicule both the lessons upon etiquette 
and her who gave them. She preferred raillery to argu- 
ment, and nicknamed the Comtesse de Noailles Madame 
r Etiquette. 

ThQ fetes which were given at Versailles on the marriage 
of the Dauphin were very splendid. The Dauphiness 
arrived there at the hour for her toilette, after having slept 
at La Muette, where Louis XV. had been to receive her ; 
and where that Prince, blinded by a feeling unworthy of a 
sovereign and the father of a family, caused the young 
Princess, the royal family, and the ladies of the Court, to 
sit down to supper with Madame du Barry. 

The Dauphiness was hurt at this conduct ; she spoke 
of it openly enough to those with whom she was intimate, 
but she knew how to conceal her dissatisfaction in public, 
and her behaviour showed no signs of it.^ 

She was received at Versailles in an apartment on the 
ground-floor, under that of the late Queen, which was not 
ready for her until six months after her marriage. 

1 See the Mimoires de Weber, tome i. The Memoirs of this writer, 
the foster-brother of Marie Antoinette, are worthy of attention. 



30 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

The Dauphiness, then fifteen years of age, beaming with 
freshness, appeared to all eyes more than beautiful. Her 
walk partook at once of the dignity of the Princesses of 
her house, and of the grace of the French ; her eyes were 
mild, her smile amiable. When she went to chapel, as 
soon as she had taken the first few steps in the long gallery, 
she discerned, all the way to its extremity, those persons 
whom she ought to salute with the consideration due to 
their rank ; those on whom she should bestow an inclina- 
tion of the head ; and lastly, those who were to be satisfied 
with a smile, calculated to console them for not being 
entitled to greater honours. 

Louis XV. was enchanted with the young Dauphiness ; 
all his conversation was about her graces, her vivacity, and 
the aptness of her repartees. She was yet more successful 
with the royal family when they beheld her shorn of the 
splendour of the diamonds with which she had been 
adorned during the first days oi her marriage. When 
clothed in a light dress of gauze or taffety she was com- 
pared to the Venus di Medicis, and the Atalanta of 
the Marly Gardens. Poets sang her charms ; painters 
attempted to copy her features. One artist's fancy led him 
to place the portrait of Marie Antoinette in the heart of a 
full-blown rose. His ingenious idea was rewarded by 
Louis XV. 

The King continued to talk only of the Dauphiness; 
and Madame du Barry ill-naturedly endeavoured to damp 
his enthusiasm. Whenever Marie Antoinette was the topic, 
she pointed out the irregularity of her features, criticised 
the bon-mots quoted as hers, and rallied the King upon 
his prepossession in her favour. Madame du Barry was 
affronted at not receiving from the Dauphiness those atten- 
tions to which she thought herself entitled ; she did not 
conceal her vexation from the King ; she was afraid that 



BENEVOLENCE OF THE DAUPHINESS 31 

the grace and cheerfulness of the young Princess would 
make the domestic circle of the Royal family more agreeable 
to the old sovereign, and that he would escape her chains ; 
at the same time, hatred to the Choiseul party contributed 
powerfully to excite the enmity of the favourite. 

The fall of that minister took place in November 1770, 
six months after his long influence in the Council had 
brought about the aUiance with the House of Austria and 
the arrival of Marie Antoinette at the Court of France. 
The Princess, young, frank, volatile, and inexperienced, 
found herself without any other guide than the Abbe de 
Vermond, in a Court ruled by the enemy of the minister 
who had brought her there, and in the midst of people who 
hated Austria, and detested any alliance with the imperial 
house. 

The Due d'Aiguillon, the Due de La Vauguyon, the 
Marechal de Richelieu, the Rohans, and other considerable 
families, who had made use of Madame du Barry to over- 
throw the Duke, could not flatter themselves, notwith- 
standing their powerful intrigues, with a hope of being able 
to break off an alliance solemnly announced, and involving 
such high poHtical interests. They therefore changed their 
mode of attack, and it will be seen how the conduct of the 
Dauphin served as a basis for their hopes. 

The Dauphiness continually gave proofs of both sense 
and feehng. Sometimes she even suffered herself to be 
carried away by those transports of compassionate kindness 
which are not to be controlled by the customs which rank 
establishes. 

In consequence of the fire in the Place Louis XV., 
which occurred at the time of the nuptial entertainments, 
the Dauphin and Dauphiness sent their whole income for 
the year to the relief of the unfortunate famiUes who lost 
their relatives on that disastrous day. 



32 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

This was one of those ostentatious acts of generosity 
which are dictated by the policy of princes, at least as 
much as by their compassion ; but the grief of Marie 
Antoinette was profound, and lasted several days ; nothing 
could console her for the loss of so many innocent victims ; 
she spoke of it, weeping, to her ladies, one of whom, 
thinking, no doubt, to divert her mind, told her that a 
great number of thieves had been found among the bodies, 
and that their pockets were filled with watches and other 
valuables : " They have at least been well punished," 
added the person who related these particulars. " Oh no, 
no, madame ! " replied the Dauphiness ; " they died by the 
side of honest people." 

The Dauphiness had brought from Vienna a considerable 
number of white diamonds ; the King added to them the 
gift of the diamonds and pearls, of the late Dauphiness, and 
also put into her hands a cOllar of pearls, of a single row, 
the smallest of which was as large as a filbert, and which 
had been brought into France by Anne of Austria, and 
appropriated by that Princess to the use of the Queens 
and Dauphinesses of France.^ 

The three Princesses, daughters of Louis XV., joined in 
making her magnificent presents. Madame Adelaide at 
the same time gave the young Princess a key to the private 
corridors of the Chateau, by means of which, without any 
suite, and without being perceived, she could get to the 
apartments of her aunts, and see them in private. The 
Dauphiness, on receiving the key, told them, with infinite 
grace, that if they had meant to make her appreciate the 
superb presents they were kind enough to bestow upon her, 

1 I mention this collar thus particularly because the Queen thought it 
her duty, notwithstanding this appropriation, to give it up to the com- 
missaries of the National Assembly when they came to strip the King and 
Queen of the crown diamonds. — Madame Campaft. 



THE DAUPHINESS AND MESDAMES 33 

they should not at the same time have offered her one of 
such inestimable value; since to that key she should be 
indebted for an intimacy and advice unspeakably precious 
at her age. She did, indeed, make use of it very fre- 
quently; but Madame Victoire alone permitted her, so 
long as she continued Dauphiness, to visit her familiarly. 
Madame Adelaide could not overcome her prejudices 
against Austrian princesses, and was wearied with the 
somewhat petulant gaiety of the Dauphiness. Madame 
Victoire was concerned at this, feeling that their society 
and counsel would have been highly useful to a young 
person otherwise likely to meet with none but sycophants. 
She endeavoured, therefore, to induce her to take pleasure 
in the society of the Marquise de Durfort, her lady of 
honour and favourite. Several agreeable entertainments 
took place at the house of this lady, but the Comtesse de 
Noailles and the Abbe de Vermond soon opposed these 
meetings. 

A circumstance which happened in hunting, near the 
village of Acheres, in the forest of Fontainebleau, afforded 
the young Princess an opportunity of displaying her respect 
for old age, and her compassion for misfortune. An aged 
peasant was wounded by the stag ; the Dauphiness jumped 
out of her calash, placed the peasant, with his wife and 
children, in it, had the family taken back to their cottage, 
and bestowed upon them every attention and every necessary 
assistance. Her heart was always open to the feelings of 
compassion, and the recollection of her rank never re- 
strained her sensibility. Several persons in her service 
entered her room one evening, expecting to find nobody 
there but the officer in waiting ; they perceived the young 
Princess seated by the side of this man, who was advanced 
in years ; she had placed near him a bowl full of water, 
was stanching the blood which issued from a wound he had 

3 



34 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

received in his hand with her handkerchief, which she had 
torn up to bind it, and was fulfilHng towards him all the 
duties of a pious sister of charity. The old man, affected 
even to tears, out of respect allowed his august mistress to 
act as she thought proper. He had hurt himself in en- 
deavouring to move a rather heavy piece of furniture at 
the Princess's request. 

In the month of July 1770 an unfortunate occurrence 
that took place in a family which the Dauphiness honoured 
with her favour contributed again to show not only her 
sensibility but also the benevolence of her disposition. 
One of her women in waiting had a son who was an officer 
in the gens d'armes of the guard ; this young man thought 
himself affronted by a clerk in the War Department, and 
imprudently sent him a challenge ; he killed his adversary 
in the forest of Compiegne. The family of the young man 
who was killed, being in possession of the challenge, de- 
manded justice. The King, distressed on account of 
several duels which had recently taken place, had un- 
fortunately declared that he would show no mercy on the 
first event of that kind which could be proved; the culprit 
was therefore arrested. His mother, in the deepest grief, 
hastened to throw herself at the feet of the Dauphiness, 
the Dauphin, and the young Princesses. After an hour's 
supplication they obtained from the King the favour so 
much desired. On the next day a lady of rank, while 
congratulating the Dauphiness, had the malice to add 
that the mother had neglected no means of success on the 
occasion, having solicited not only the royal family, but 
even Madame du Barry. The Dauphiness replied that 
the fact justified the favourable opinion she had formed 
of the worthy woman ; that the heart of a mother should 
hesitate at nothing for the salvation of her son ; and 
that in her place, if she had thought it would be 



STATE ENTRY INTO PARIS 



35 



serviceable, she would have thrown herself at the feet of 
Zamor.^ 

Some time after the marriage entertainments the Dau- 
phiness made her entry into Paris, and was received with 
transports of joy. After dining in the King's apartment at 
the Tuileries, she was forced, by the reiterated shouts of 
the multitude, with whom the garden was filled, to present 
herself upon the balcony fronting the principal walk. On 
seeing such a crowd of heads with their eyes fixed upon 
her, she exclaimed, "Grand Dieu ! what a concourse!" 
" Madame," said the old Due de Brissac, the Governor of 
Paris, "I may tell you, without fear of offending the 
Dauphin, that they are so many lovers."^ The Dauphin 
took no umbrage at either acclamations or marks of 
homage of which the Dauphiness was the object. The 
most mortifying indifference, a coldness which frequently 
degenerated into rudeness, were the sole feelings which the 
young Prince then manifested towards her. Not all her 
charms could gain even upon his senses. This estrangement, 
which lasted a long time, was said to be the work of the 
Due de La Vauguyon. The Dauphiness, in fact, had no 
sincere friends at Court except the Due de Choiseul and 
his party. Will it be credited that the plans laid against 
Marie Antoinette went so far as divorce? I have been 
assured of it by persons holding high situations at Court,, 
and many circumstances tend to confirm the opinion. On 

1 A little Indian who carried the Comtesse du Barry's train. Louis 
XV. often amused himself with the little marmoset ; having jestingly made 
him Governor of Louveciennes, he received an annual income of 3000 
francs. — Madame Campan. 

2 At the Court of Louis XV. and XVI., he was a model of the 
gallantry and courage of the ancient knights. The Comte de Charolais, 
finding him one day with his mistress, said to him abruptly, "Go out, sir." 
"Monseigneur," replied the Due de Brissac, with emphasis, "your an- 
cestors would have said, ' Come out.' " — Note by the Editor. 



LIBRARY 



36 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

the journey to Fontainebleau, in the year of the marriage, 
the inspectors of public buildings were gained over to 
manage so that the apartment intended for the Dauphin, 
communicating with that of the Dauphiness, should not be 
finished, and a room at the extremity of the building was 
temporarily assigned to him. The Dauphiness, aware that 
this was thQ result of intrigue, had the courage to complain 
of it to Louis XV., who, after severe reprimands, gave 
orders so positive that within the week the apartment was 
ready. Every method was tried to continue or augment 
the indifference which the Dauphin long manifested towards 
his youthful spouse. She was deeply hurt at it, but she 
never suffered herself to utter the slightest complaint on the 
subject. Inattention to, even contempt for, the charms 
which she heard extolled on all sides, nothing induced her 
to break silence ; and some tears, which would involuntarily 
burst from her eyes, were the sole symptoms of her inward 
sufferings discoverable by those in her service. 

Once only, when tired out with the misplaced remon- 
strances of an old lady attached to her person, who wished 
to dissuade her from riding on horseback, under the im- 
pression that it would prevent her producing heirs to the 
crown, " Mademoiselle," said she, " in God's name, leave 
me in peace; be assured that I can put no heir in danger." 

The Dauphiness found at the Court of Louis XV., 
besides the three Princesses, the King's daughters, the 
Princes also, brothers of the Dauphin, who were receiving 
their education, and Clotilde and Elizabeth, still in the care 
of Madame de Marsan, governess of the children of France. 
The elder of the two latter Princesses, in 1777, married the 
Prince of Piedmont, afterwards King of Sardinia. This 
Princess was in her infancy so extremely large that the 
people nicknamed her gros Madame} The second Princess 

^ Madame Clotilde of France, a sister of the King, was extraordinarily 



MADAME ELIZABETH zi 

was the pious Elizabeth, the victim of her respect and 
tender attachment for the King, her brother. She was 
still scarcely out of her leading-strings at the period of the 
Dauphin's marriage. The Dauphiness showed her marked 
preference. The governess, who sought to advance the 
Princess to whom Nature had been least favourable, was 
offended at the Dauphiness's partiality for Madame Eliza- 
beth, and by her injudicious complaints weakened the 
friendship which yet subsisted between Madame Clotilde 
and Marie Antoinette. There even arose some degree of 
rivalry on the subject of education; and that which the 
Empress Maria Theresa bestowed on her daughters was 
talked of openly and unfavourably enough. The Abbe de 
Vermond thought himself affronted, took a part in the 
quarrel, and added his complaints and jokes to those of the 
Dauphiness on the criticisms of the governess ; he even 
indulged himself in his turn in reflections on the tuition of 
Madame Clotilde. Everything becomes known at Court. 
Madame de Marsan was informed of all that had been said 
in the Dauphiness's circle, and was very angry with her on 
account of it. 

From that moment a centre of intrigue or rather gossip 
against Marie Antoinette was established round Madame 
de Marsan's fireside ; her most trifling actions were there 
construed ill ; her gaiety, and the harmless amusements in 
which she sometimes mdulged in her own apartments with 

fat for her height and age. One of her playfellows, having been indiscreet 
enough even in her presence to make use of the nickname given to her, 
received a severe reprimand from the Comtesse de Marsan, who hinted to 
her that she would do well in not making her appearance again before the 
Princess. Madame Clotilde sent for her the next day : ' ' My governess, " 
said she, ' ' has done her duty, and I will do mine ; come and see me as 
usual, and think no more of a piece of inadvertence, which I myself have 
forgotten." This Princess, so heavy in body, possessed the most agree- 
able and playful wit. Her affability and grace rendered her dear to all 
who came near her. — Note by the Editor. 



38, PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

the more youthful ladies of her train, and even with the 
women in her service, were stigmatised as criminal. Prince 
Louis de Rohan, sent through the influence of this clique 
ambassador to Vienna, was the echo there of these un- 
merited comments, and threw himself into a series of 
culpable accusations which he dignified with the name of 
zeal. He ceaselessly represented the young Dauphiness as 
alienating all hearts by levities unsuitable to the dignity of 
the French Court. The Princess frequently received from 
the Court of Vienna remonstrances, of the origin of which 
she could not long remain in ignorance. From this period 
must be dated that aversion which she never ceased to 
manifest for the Prince de Rohan. 

About the same time the Dauphiness received informa- 
tion of a letter written by Prince Louis to the Due 
d'Aiguillon, in which the ambassador expressed himself in 
very free language respecting the intentions of Maria Theresa 
with relation to the partition of Poland. This letter of 
Prince Louis had been read at the Comtesse du Barry's ; 
the levity of the ambassador's correspondence wounded the 
feelings and the dignity of the Dauphiness at Versailles, 
while at Vienna the representations which he made to Maria 
Theresa against the young Princess terminated in rendering 
the motives of his incessant complaints suspected by the 
Empress. 

Maria Theresa at length determined on sending her 
private secretary, Baron de Neni, to Versailles, with direc- 
tions to observe the conduct of the Dauphiness with 
attention, and form a just estimate of the opinion of the 
Court and of Paris with regard to that Princess. The 
Baron de Neni, after having devoted sufficient time and 
intelligence to the subject, undeceived his sovereign as to 
the exaggerations of the French ambassador; and the 
Empress had no difficulty in detecting, among the calumnies 



THE PRINCE DE ROHAN IN VIENNA 



39 



which he had conveyed to her under the specious excuse 
of anxiety for her august daughter, proofs of the enmity of 
a party which had never approved of the alliance of the 
House of Bourbon with her own.i 

At this period the Dauphiness, though unable to obtain 
any influence over the heart of her husband, dreading Louis 
XV., and justly mistrusting everything connected with 
Madame du Barry and the Due d'Aiguillon, had not 
deserved the slightest reproach for that sort of levity 
which hatred and her misfortunes afterwards construed into 
crime. The Empress, convinced of the innocence of Marie 
Antoinette, directed the Baron de Neni to solicit the recall 
of the Prince de Rohan, and to inform the minister for 
Foreign Affairs of all the motives which made her require 
it ; but the House of Rohan interposed between its protegt 
and the Austrian envoy, and an evasive answer merely was 
given. 

It was not until two months after the death of Louis 
XV. that the Court of Vienna obtained his recall. The 
avowed grounds for requiring it were, first, the pubHc 
gallantries of Prince Louis with some ladies of the Court 
and others ; secondly, his surliness and haughtiness towards 
other foreign ministers, which would have had more serious 
consequences, especially with the ministers of England and 
Denmark, if the Empress herself had not interfered ; thirdly, 
his contempt for religion in a country where it was particu- 
larly necessary to show respect for it. He had been seen 
frequently to dress himself in clothes of different colours, 
assuming the hunting uniforms of various noblemen whom 
he visited, with so much audacity that one day in particular, 

1 Maria Theresa knew very well which of the persons who composed 
the Court of Louis XV. were favourable to Marie Antoinette. It is said 
that at the moment of her departure for France the Empress gave her a 
confidential list of such persons. — Note by the Editor. 



40 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

during the Fete Dieu, he and all his legation, in green 
uniforms laced with gold, broke through a procession which 
impeded them, in order to make their way to a hunting 
party at the Prince de Paar's ; and fourthly, the immense 
debts contracted by him and his people, which were tardily 
and only in part discharged. 

The succeeding marriages of the Comte de Provence 
and the Comte d'Artois with two daughters of the King of 
Sardinia procured society for the Dauphiness more suitable 
to her age, and altered her mode of life. 

A pair of tolerably fine eyes drew forth in favour of the 
Comtesse de Provence, upon her arrival at Versailles, the 
only praises which could reasonably be bestowed upon her. 
The Comtesse d'Artois, though not deformed, was very 
small; she had a fine complexion; her face, tolerably 
pleasing, was not remarkable for anything except the ex- 
treme length of the nose. But being good and generous, 
she was beloved by those about her, and even possessed 
some influence so long as she was the only Princess who 
had produced heirs to the crown. 

From this time the closest intimacy subsisted between 
the three young families. They took their meals together, 
except on those days when they dined in public. This 
manner of living en famille continued until the Queen 
sometimes indulged herself in going to dine with the 
Duchesse de Polignac, when she was governess; but the 
evening meetings at supper were never interrupted; they 
took place at the house of the Comtesse de Provence. 
Madame Elizabeth made one of the party when she had 
finished her education, and sometimes Mesdames, the 
King's aunts, were invited. This custom, which had no 
precedent at Court, was the work of Marie Antoinette, and 
she maintained it with the utmost perseverance. 

The Court of Versailles saw no change in point of 



ROYAL THEATRICALS 41 

etiquette during the reign of Louis XV. Play took place 
at the house of the Dauphiness, as being the first female of 
the State. It had, from the death of Queen Maria Leczinska 
to the marriage of the Dauphin, been held at the abode of 
Madame Adelaide. This removal, the result of an order 
of precedence not to be violated, was not the less displeas- 
ing to Madame Adelaide, who established a separate party 
for play in her apartments, and scarcely ever went to that 
which not only the Court in general, but also the royal 
family, were expected to attend. The full-dress visits to the 
King on his debotter were continued. High mass was 
attended daily. The airings of the Princesses were nothing 
more than rapid races in berlins, during which they were 
accompanied by Body Guards, equerries, and pages on 
horseback. They galloped for some leagues from Versailles. 
Calashes were used only in hunting. 

The young Princesses were desirous to infuse animation 
into their circle of associates by something useful as well as 
pleasant. They adopted the plan of learning and per- 
forming all the best plays of the French theatre. The 
Dauphin was the only spectator. The three Princesses, 
the two brothers of the King, and Messieurs Campan, father 
and son, were the sole performers, but they endeavoured to 
keep this amusement as secret as an affair of State ; they 
dreaded the censure of Mesdames, and they had no doubt 
that Louis XV. would forbid such pastimes if he knew of 
them. They selected a cabinet in the entresol which nobody 
had occasion to enter for their performance. A kind of 
proscenium, v/hich could be taken down and shut up in a 
closet, formed the whole theatre. The Comte de Provence 
always knew his part with imperturbable accuracy; the 
Comte d'Artois knew his tolerably well, and recited 
elegantly ; the Princesses acted badly. The Dauphiness 
acquitted herself in some characters with discrimination and 



42 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

feeling. The chief pleasure of this amusement consisted in 
all the costumes being elegant and accurate. The Dauphin 
entered into the spirit of these diversions, and laughed 
heartily at the comic characters as they came on the scene ; 
from these amusements may be dated his discontinuance of 
the timid manner of his youth, and his taking pleasure in 
the society of the Dauphiness. 

It was not till a long time afterwards that I learnt these 
particulars, M. Campan having kept the secret; but an 
unforeseen event had well-nigh exposed the whole mystery. 
One day the Queen desired M. Campan to go down into 
her closet to fetch something that she had forgotten; he 
was dressed for the character of Crispin, and was rouged. 
A private staircase led direct to the entresol through the 
dressing-room. M. Campan fancied he heard some noise, 
and remained still, behind the door, which was shut. A 
servant belonging to the wardrobe, who was, in fact, on the 
staircase, had also heard some noise, and, either from fear 
or curiosity, he suddenly opened the door : the figure of 
Crispin frightened him so that he fell down backwards, 
shouting with all his might, " Help ! help ! " My father-in- 
law raised him up, made him recognise his voice, and laid 
upon him an injunction of silence as to what he had seen. 
He felt himself, however, bound to inform the Dauphiness 
of what had happened, and she was afraid that a similar 
occurrence might betray their amusements. They were 
therefore discontinued. 

The Princess occupied her time in her own apartment 
in the study of music and the parts in plays which she had 
to learn ; the latter exercise, at least, produced the beneficial 
effect of strengthening her memory and familiarising her 
with the French language. 

While Louis XV. reigned, the enemies of Marie 
Antoinette made no attempt to change public opinion with 



FRIENDS AND FOES OF THE DAUPHINESS 43 

regard to her. She was always popular with the French 
people in general, and particularly with the inhabitants of 
Paris, who went on every opportunity to Versailles, the 
majority of them attracted solely by the pleasure of seeing 
her. The courtiers did not fully enter into the popular 
enthusiasm which the Dauphiness had inspired; the dis- 
grace of the Due de Choiseul had removed her real support 
from her; and the party which had the ascendency at 
Court since the exile of that minister was, politically, as 
much opposed to her family as to herself. The Dauphiness 
was therefore surrounded by enemies at Versailles. 

Nevertheless everybody appeared outwardly desirous to 
please her; for the age of Louis XV., and the apathetic 
character of the Dauphin, sufficiently warned courtiers of 
the important part reserved for the Princess during the 
following reign, in case the Dauphin should become attached 
to her. 



CHAPTER III 

Death of Louis XV. -^Picture of the Court — Madame du Barry dis- 
missed — Departure of the Court to Choisy — M. de Maurepas 
Minister — Conduct of the Abbe de Vermond. 

About the beginning of May 1774 Louis XV., the strength 
of whose constitution had promised a long enough Hfe, 
was attacked by confluent smallpox of the worst kind. 
Mesdames at this juncture inspired the Dauphiness with a 
feeling of respect and attachment, of which she gave them 
repeated proofs when she ascended the throne. In fact, 
nothing was more admirable nor more affecting than the 
courage with which they braved that most horrible disease : 
the air of the Palace was infected ; more than fifty 
persons took the smallpox, in consequence of having 
merely loitered in the galleries of Versailles ; and ten died 
of it. 

The end of the monarch was approaching. His reign, 
peaceful in general, had inherited strength from the power of 
his predecessor ; on the other hand, his own weakness 
had been preparing misfortune for whoever should reign 
after him. The scene was about to change : hope, ambition, 
joy, grief, and all those feelings which variously affected the 
hearts of the courtiers, sought in vain to disguise themselves 
under a calm exterior. It was easy to detect the different 
motives which induced them every moment to repeat to 
every one the question : " How is the King?" At length, 



DEATH OF LOUIS XV. 



45 



on the loth of May 1774, the mortal career of Louis XV. 
terminated.^ 

1 Christopher de Beaumont, Archbishop of Paris, the ardent apostle ot 
frequent communion, arrived at Paris with the intention of soliciting, in 
public, the administration of the sacrament to the King ; and secretly- 
retarding it as much as possible. The ceremony could not take place 
without the ^previous and puilic expulsion of the concubine, according to 
the canons of the Church and the Jesuitical party, of which. Christopher 
was the leader. This party, which had made use of Madame du Barry to 
suppress the ParHaments, to support the Due d'Aiguillon, and ruin the 
Choiseul faction, could not willingly consent to disgrace her canonically. 
The Archbishop went into the King's bed-chamber, and found there 
Madame Adelaide, the Due d'Aumont, the Bishop of Senlis, and Richelieu, 
in whose presence he resolved not to say one word about confession for 
that day. This reticence so encouraged Louis XV. that, on the Arch- 
bishop withdrawing, he had Madame Du Barry called in, and kissed her 
beautiful hands again with his wonted affection. On the 2d of May the 
King found himself a little better. Madame du Barry had brought him 
two confidential physicians. Lorry and Bordeu, who were enjoined to con- 
ceal the nature of his sickness from him in order to keep off the priests and 
save her from a humiliating dismissal. The King's improvement allowed 
of Madame du Barry diverting him by her usual playfulness and conversa- 
tion. But La Martiniere, who was of the Choiseul party, and to whom 
they durst not refuse his right of entry, did not conceal from the King 
either the nature or the danger of his sickness. The King then sent for 
Madame du Barry, and said to her : ' ' My love, I have got the smallpox, 
and my illness is very dangerous on account of my age and other disorders. 
I ought not to forget that I am the most Christian King and the eldest son 
of the Church. I am sixt5'-four ; the time is perhaps approaching when 
we must separate. I wish to prevent a scene like that of Metz." [When, 
in 1744, he had dismissed the Duchesse de Chateauroux. ] "Apprise the 
Due d'Aiguillon of what I say, that he may arrange with you if my sickness 
grows worse; so that we may part without any pubHcity." The Jan- 
senists and the Due de Choiseul's party publicly said that M. d'Aiguillon 
and the Archbishop had resolved to let the King die without receiving the 
sacrament, rather than disturb Madame du Barry, Annoyed by their 
remarks, Beaumont determined to go and reside at the Lazaristes, his 
house at Versailles, to avail himself of the King's last moments, and 
sacrifice Madame du Barry when the monarch's condition should become 
desperate. He arrived on the 3d of May, but did not see the King. 
Under existing circumstances, his object was to humble the enemies of his 
party and to support the favourite who had assisted to overcome them. 



46 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

The Comtesse du Barry had, a few days previously, 
withdrawn to Ruelle, to the Due d'Aiguillon's. Twelve or 
fifteen persons belonging to the Court thought it their 
duty to visit her there ; their liveries were observed, and 
these visits were for a long time grounds for disfavour. 
More than six years after the King's death one of these 
persons being spoken of in the circle of the royal family, 

A contrary zeal animated the Bishop of Carcassonne, who urged ' ' that 
the King ought to receive the sacrament ; and by expelling the concubine 
to give an example of repentance to France and Christian Europe, which 
he had scandalised." "By what right," said Cardinal de la Roche 
Aymon, a complaisant courtier with whom the Bishop was at daggers 
drawn, "do you instruct me?" — "There is my authority," replied the 
Bishop, holding up his pectoral cross. "Learn, Monseigneur, to respect 
it, and do not suffer your King to die without the sacraments of the Church, 
of which he is the eldest son." The Due d'Aiguillon and the Archbishop, 
who witnessed the discussion, put an end to it by asking for the King's 
orders relative to Madame du Barry.. "She must be taken quietly to 
your seat at Ruelle, " said the King ; "I shall be grateful for the care 
Madame d'Aiguillon may take of her." 

Madame du Barry saw the King again for a moment on the evening of 
the 4th, and promised to return to Court upon his recovery. She was 
scarcely gone when the King asked for her. ' ' She is gone" was the 
answer. From that moment the disorder gained ground ; he thought 
himself a dead man, without the possibility of recovery. The 5th and 6th 
passed without a word of confession, viaticum, or extreme unction. The 
Due de Fronsac threatened to throw the Cur6 of Versailles out of the 
window if he dared to mention them, but on the 7th, at three in 
the morning, the King imperatively called for the Abb^ Maudoux. Con- 
fession lasted seventeen minutes. The Dues de la Vrilliere and d'Aiguillon 
wished to delay the viaticum ; but La Martiniere said to the King : " Sire, 
I have seen your Majesty in very trying circumstances ; but never 
admired you as I have done to-day. No doubt your Majesty will 
immediately finish what you have so well begun." The King had his 
confessor Maudoux called back ; this was a poor priest who had been 
placed about him for some years before because he was old and blind. 
He gave him absolution. 

The formal renunciation desired by the Choiseul party, in order to 
humble and annihilate Madame du Barry with solemnity, was no more 
mentioned. The grand almoner, in concert with the Archbishop, composed 
this formula, pronounced in presence of the viaticum : ' ' Although the 



QUEEN OF FRANCE 47 

I heard it remarked, " That was one of the fifteen Ruelle 
carriages." 

The whole Court went to the Chateau; the oeil-de-boeuf 
was filled with courtiers, and the Palace with the inqui- 
sitive. The Dauphin had settled that he would depart with 
the royal family the moment the King should breathe his 
last sigh. But on such an occasion decency forbade that 
positive orders for departure should be passed from mouth 
to mouth. The heads of the stables, therefore, agreed with 
the people who were in the King's room, that the latter should 
place a lighted taper near a window, and that at the instant 
of the King's decease one of them should extinguish it.^ 

The taper was extinguished. On this signal the Body 
Guards, pages, and equerries mounted on horseback, and 
all was ready for setting ojOf. The Dauphin was with the 
Dauphiness. They were expecting together the intelligence 
of the death of Louis XV. A dreadful noise, absolutely 
like thunder, was heard in the outer apartment ; it was the 
crowd of courtiers who were deserting the dead sovereign's 
antechamber, to come and do homage to the new power of 

King owes an account of his conduct to none but God, he declares his 
repentance at having scandaKsed his subjects, and is desirous to live solely 
for the maintenance of religion and the happiness of his people. " 

On the 8th and 9th the disorder grew worse ; and the King beheld the 
M^hole surface of his body coming off piecemeal and corrupted. Deserted 
by his friends and by that crowd of courtiers which had so long cringed 
before him, his only consolation was the piety of his daughters. — Historical 
and Political Memoirs, by Soulavie, vol i. 

1 One grudges to interfere with the beautiful theatrical ' ' candle " which 
Madame Campan (i. 79) has lit on this occasion, and blown out at the 
moment of death. What candles may be lit or blown out in so large 
an establishment as that of Versailles, no man at such distance would like 
to affirm ; at the same time, as it was two o'clock on a May afternoon, 
and these royal stables must have been five or six hundred yards from the 
royal sick-room, the candle does threaten to go out in spite of us. It 
remains burning indeed — in her fantasy : throwing light on much in those 
Mdmoires of hers. — Carlyle's French Revolution, vol. i. p. 21. 



48 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Louis XVI. This extraordinary tumult informed Marie 
Antoinette and her husband that they were called to the 
throne; and, by a spontaneous movement, which deeply 
affected those around them, they threw themselves on their 
knees ; both, pouring forth a flood of tears, exclaimed : " O 
God I guide us, protect us ; we are too young to reign.^^ 

The Comtesse de Noailles entered, and was the first to 
salute Marie Antoinette as Queen of France. She requested 
their Majesties to condescend to quit the inner apartments 
for the grand salon, to receive the Princes and all the great 
officers, who were desirous to do homage to their new 
sovereigns. Marie Antoinette received these first visits 
leaning upon her husband, with her handkerchief held to 
her eyes ; the carriages drove up, the guards and equerries 
were on horseback. The Chateau was deserted — every one 
hastened to fly from contagion, which there was no longer 
any inducement to brave. 

On leaving the chamber of Louis XV., the Due de 
Villequier, first gentleman of the bed-chamber for the year, 
ordered M. Andouill^, the King's chief surgeon, to open 
the body and embalm it. The chief surgeon would 
inevitably have died in consequence. "I am ready," 
replied Andouille ; " but while I operate you shall hold the 
head ; your office imposes this duty upon you." The Duke 
went off without saying a word, and the corpse was neither 
opened nor embalmed. A few under-servants and workmen 
continued with the pestiferous remains, and paid the last 
duty to their master ; the surgeons directed that spirits of 
wine should be poured into the coffin. 

The whole of the Court set off for Choisy at four o'clock ; 
Mesdames the King's aunts in their private carriage, and 
the Princesses under tuition with the Comtesse de Marsan 
and the under governesses. The King, the Queen, Monsieur, 
the King's brother, Madame, and the Comte and Comtesse 



RIVAL MINISTERS 49 

d'Artois, went in the same carriage. Tlie solemn scene that 
had just passed before their eyes — the multiplied ideas 
oifered to their imaginations by that which was just opening 
had naturally incUned them to grief and reflection ; but, by 
the Queen's own confession, this incHnation, little suited to 
their age, wholly left them before they had gone half their 
journey ; a word, drolly mangled by the Comtesse d'Artois, 
occasioned a general burst of laughter — and from that 
moment they dried their tears. 

The communication between Choisy and Paris was 
incessant; never was a Court seen in greater agitation. 
What influence will the royal aunts have ? — And the Queen ? 
— What fate is reserved for the Comtesse du Barry ? — Whom 
will the young King choose for his ministers ? — All these 
questions were answered in a few days. It was determined 
that the King's youth required a confidential person near 
him ; and that there should be a prime minister. All eyes 
were turned upon De Machault and De Maurepas, both of 
them much advanced in years. The first had retired to his 
estate near Paris; and the second to Pont Chartrain, to 
which place he had long been exiled. The letter recalling 
M. de Machault was written when Madame Adelaide ob- 
tained the preference of that important appointment for M. 
de Maurepas. The page to whose care the first letter had 
been actually consigned was recalled.^ 

1 If we may credit a contemporary writer, the Abbd de Radonvilliers 
was not without influence in this last determination. Chamfort relates the 
following anecdote apropos of the nomination of the Comte de Maurepas : — 

" It is a well-known fact that the King's letter, sent to M. de Maurepas, 
was written for M. de Machault. When M. de Maurepas arrived, the King 
svould do no more than chat with him. At the end of the conversation, 
M, de Maurepas said to him : ' I will detail my ideas to-morrow at the 
Council.' It is related, too, that at this conversation he said to the King, 
' Your Majesty, then, makes me Prime Minister ?' ' No,' replied the King, 
' I have no such intention.' ' I understand,' said M. de Maurepas ; 'your 
Majesty wishes I should teach you to do without one.' " — Note by the Editor. 

4 



50 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

The Due d'Aiguillon had been too openly known as the 
private friend of the King's mistress ; he was dismissed. 
M. de Vergennes, at that time ambassador of France at 
Stockholm, was appointed Minister for Foreign Affairs ; 
Comte du Muy, the intimate friend of the Dauphin, the 
father of Louis XVL, obtained the War Department. The 
Abbe Terray in vain said, and wrote, that he had boldly 
done all possible injury to the creditors of the State during 
' the reign of the late King \ that order was restored in the 
finances ; that nothing but what was beneficial to all parties 
remained to be done ; and that the new Court was about to 
enjoy the advantages of the regenerating part of his plan of 
finance ; all these reasons, set forth in five or six memorials, 
which he sent in succession to the King and Queen, did 
not avail to keep him in office. His talents were admitted, 
but the odium which his operations had necessarily brought 
upon his character, combined with the immorality of his 
private life, forbade his further stay at Court; he was 
succeeded by M. de Clugny. De Maupeou, the Chancellor, 
was exiled; this caused universal joy. Lastly, the reas- 
sembling of the Parliaments produced the strongest sensa- 
tion ; Paris was in a delirium of joy, and not more than 
one person in a hundred foresaw that the spirit of the 
ancient magistracy would be still the same ; and that in a 
short time it would make new attempts upon the royal 
authority. Madame du Barry had been exiled to Pont-aux- 
Dames. This was a measure rather of necessity than of 
severity ; a short period of compulsory retreat was requisite 
in order completely to break off her connection with State 
affairs. The possession of Louveciennes and a considerable 
pension were continued to her.^ 

1 The Comtesse du Barry never forgot the mild treatment she ex- 
perienced from the Court of Louis XVI. ; during the most violent con- 
vulsions of the Revolution she signified to the Queen that there was no 



THE DUC DE CHOISEUL 51 

Everybody expected the recall of M. de Choiseul ; the 
regret occasioned by his absence among the numerous friends 
whom he had left at Court, the attachment of the young 
Princess who was indebted to him for her elevation to the 
throne of France, and all concurring circumstances, seemed 
to foretell his return ; the Queen earnestly entreated it of the 
King, but she met with an insurmountable and unforeseen 
obstacle. The King, it is said, had imbibed the strongest 
prejudices against that minister, from secret memoranda 
penned by his father, and which had been committed to 
the care of the Due de La Vauguyon, with an injunction to 
place them in his hands as soon as he should be old enough 
to study the art of reigning. It was by these memoranda 
that the .esteem which he had conceived for the Marechal 
du Muy was inspired, and we may add that Madame 
Adelaide, who at this early period powerfully influenced the 
decisions of the young monarch, confirmed the impressions 
they had made. 

The Queen conversed with M. Campan on the regret 
she felt at having been unable to procure the recall of M. 
de Choiseul, and disclosed the cause of it to him. The 
Abbe de Vermond, who, down to the time of the death of 
Louis XV., had been on terms of the strictest friendship 
with M. Campan, called upon him on the second day after 
the arrival of the Court at Choisy, and, assuming a serious 

one in France more grieved at the suffering_s of her sovereign than herself ; 
that the honour she had for years enjoyed, of living near the throne, and 
the unbounded kindness of the King and Queen, had so sincerely attached 
her to the cause of royalty, that she entreated the Queen to honour her by 
disposing of all she possessed. Though they did not accept her offer, their 
Majesties were affected at her gratitude. The Comtesse du Barry was, as 
is well known, one of the victims of the Revolution. She betrayed at the 
last great weakness, and the most ardent desire to live. She was the only 
woman who wept upon the scaffold and implored for mercy. Her beauty 
and tears made an impression on the populace, and the execution was 
hurried to a conclusion. — Madame Campan. 



52 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

air, said, " Sir, the Queen was indiscreet enough yesterday 
to speak to you of a minister to whom she must of course 
be attached, and whom his friends ardently desire to have 
near her ; you are aware that we must give up all expecta- 
tion of seeing the Duke at Court ; you know the reasons 
why ; but you do not know that the young Queen, having 
mentioned the conversation in question to me, it was my 
duty, both as her preceptor and her friend, to remonstrate 
severely with her on her indiscretion in communicating to 
you those particulars of which you are in possession. I am 
now come to tell you that if you continue to avail yourself 
of the good nature of your mistress to initiate yourself in 
secrets of State, you will have me for your most inveterate 
enemy. The Queen should find here no other confidant 
than myself respecting things that ought to remain secret." 
M. Campan answered that he did not covet the important 
and dangercMs character at the new Court which the Abbe 
wished to appropriate ; and that he should confine himself 
to the duties of his office, being sufficiently satisfied with 
the continued kindness with which the Queen honoured 
him. Notwithstanding this, however, he informed the 
Queen, on the very same evening, of the injunction he had 
received. She owned that she had mentioned their con- 
versation to the Abbe ; that he had indeed seriously scolded 
her, in order to make her feel the necessity of being secret in 
concerns of State ; and she added, " The Abbe cannot like 
you, my dear Campan ; he did not expect that I should, on 
my arrival in France, find in my household a man who would 
suit itie so exactly as you have done. I know that he has taken 
umbrage at it ; that is enough. I know, too, that you are 
incapable of attempting anything to injure him in my esteem- 
an attempt which would besides be vain, for I have been too 
long attached to him. As to yourself, be easy on the score 
of the Abbe's hostility, which shall not in any way hurt you." 



THE queen's ADVISERS 53 

The Abbe de Vermond having made himself master of 
the office of sole confidant to the Queen, was nevertheless 
agitated whenever he saw the young King ; he could not 
be ignorant that the Abbe had been promoted by the Due 
de Choiseul, and was beUeved to favour the Encyclopedists, 
against whom Louis XVI. entertained a secret prejudice, 
although he suffered them to gain so great an ascendency 
during his reign. The Abbe had, moreover, observed that 
the King had never, while Dauphin, addressed a single 
word to him \ and that he very frequently only answered 
him with a shrug of the shoulders. He therefore determined 
on writing to Louis XVL, and intimating that he owed his 
situation at Court solely to the confidence with which the 
late King had honoured him ; and that as habits contracted 
during the Queen's education placed him continually in the 
closest intimacy with her, he could not enjoy the honour of 
remaining near her Majesty without the King's consent. 
Louis XVL sent back his letter, after writing upon it these 
words : " I approve the Abbe de Vermond continuing in 
his ofiice about the Queen." 



CHAPTER IV 

Influence of example upon the courtiers — Enthusiasm raised by the new 
reign — Mourning at La Muette — The Queen — The King and the 
Princes, his brothers, are inoculated — Stay at Marly — Calumnies 
against the Queen — Boehmer, the jeweller — Mademoiselle Bertin 
— Changes of fashion — Simplicity of the Court of Vienna — 
Extreme temperance, decorum, and modesty of Marie Antoinette — 
The code of service — Public dinners — The Queen's wardrobe — 
Her toilette — Daily routine — Hearing Mass. 

At the period of his grandfather's death Louis XVI. 
began to be exceedingly attached to the Queen. The first 
period of so deep a mourning not admitting of indulgence 
in the diversion of hunting, he proposed to her walks in 
the gardens of Choisy ; they went out like husband and 
wife, the young King giving his arm to the Queen, and ac- 
companied by a very small suite. The influence of this 
example had such an effect upon the courtiers that the next 
day several couples, who had long, and for good reasons, 
been disunited, were seen walking upon the terrace with 
the same apparent conjugal intimac)^ Thus they spent 
whole hours, braving the intolerable wearisomeness of their 
protracted iete-^-tetes, out of mere obsequious imitation. 

The devotion of Mesdames to the King their father 
throughout his dreadful malady h-ad produced that effect 
upon their health which was generally apprehended. On 
the fourth day after their arrival at Choisy they were attacked 
by pains in the head and chest, which left no doubt as to 




^'i R':i\l;^C^ E [L,@y 0^1;^ ilO l^.i^^ fi? 



p" inr' R^ 



ABAmE (SA.ii^ FA 



POPULARITY OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 55 

the danger of their situation. It became necessary instantly 
to send away the young royal family ; and the Chateau de 
la Muette, in the Bois de Boulogne, was selected for their 
reception. Their arrival at that residence, which was very 
near Paris, drew so great a concourse of people into its neigh- 
bourhood, that even at daybreak the crowd had begun to 
assemble round the gates. Shouts of " Vive le Roi !^^ were 
scarcely interrupted for a moment between six o'clock in 
the morning and sunset. The unpopularity the late King 
had drawn upon himself during his latter years, and the 
hopes to which a new reign gives birth, occasioned these 
transports of joy. 

A fashionable jeweller made a fortune by the sale of 
mourning snuff-boxes, whereon the portrait of the young 
Queen, in a black frame of shagreen, gave rise to the pun : 
" Consolation i?t chagrin^ All the fashions, and every 
article of dress, received names expressing the spirit of the 
moment. Symbols of abundance were everywhere repre- 
sented, and the head-dresses of the ladies were surrounded by 
ears of wheat. Poets sang of the new monarch ; all hearts, 
or rather all heads, in France were filled with enthusiasm. 
Never did the commencement of any reign excite more 
unanimous testimonials of love and attachment. It must be 
observed, however, that, amidst all this intoxication, the anti- 
Austrian party never lost sight of the young Queen, but kept 
on the watch, with the malicious desire to injure her through 
such errors as might arise from her youth and inexperience. 

Their Majesties had to receive at La Muette the con- 
dolences of the ladies who had been presented at Court, 
who all felt themselves called on to pay homage to the 
new sovereigns. Old and young hastened to present them- 
selves on the day of general reception ; little black bonnets 
with great wings, shaking heads, low curtsies, keeping time 
with the motions of the head, made, it must be admitted, a 



56 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

few venerable dowagers appear somewhat ridiculous ; but 
the Queen, who possessed a great deal of dignity, and a 
high respect for decorum, was not guilty of the grave fault 
of losing the state she was bound to preserve. An indis- 
creet piece of drollery of one of the ladies of the Palace, 
however, procured her the imputation of doing so. The 
Marquise de Clermont-Tonnerre, whose office required that 
she should continue standing behind the Queen, fatigued 
by the length of the ceremony, seated herself on the floor, 
concealed behind the fence formed by the hoops of the Queen 
and the ladies of the Palace. Thus seated, and wishing to 
attract attention and to appear lively, she twitched the 
dresses of those ladies, and played a thousand other tricks. 
The contrast of these childish pranks with the solemnity 
which reigned over the rest of the Queen's chamber dis- 
concerted her Majesty : she several times placed her fan 
before her face to hide an involuntary smile, and the severe 
old ladies pronounced that the young Queen had derided 
all those respectable persons who were pressing forward to 
pay their homage to her; that she liked none but the youngj 
that she was deficient in decorum ; and that not one of 
them would attend her Court again. The epithet moqueuse 
was applied to her ; and there is no epithet less favourably 
received in the world. 

The next day a very ill-natured song was circulated ; the 
stamp of the party to which it was attributable might easily 
be seen upon it. I remember only the following chorus : — 

"Little Queen, you must not be 

So saucy, with your twenty years ; 
Your ill-used courtiers soon will see 
You pass, once more, the barriers. 
Fallallal, fallal la." 

The errors of the great, or those which ill-nature chooses 
to impute to them, circulate in the world with the greatest 



THE COURT AT MARLY 



rapidity, and become historical traditions, which every one 
delights to repeat. More than fifteen years after this 
occurrence I heard some old ladies in the most retired part 
of Auvergne relating all the particulars of the day of public 
condolence for the late King, on which, as they said, 
the Queen had laughed in the faces of the sexagenarian 
duchesses and princesses who had thought it their duty to 
appear on the occasion. 

The King and the Princes, his brothers, determined to 
avail themselves of the advantages held out by inoculation, 
as a safeguard against the illness under which their grand- 
father had just fallen ; but the utility of this new discovery 
not being then generally acknowledged in France, many 
persons were greatly alarmed at the step; those who 
blamed it openly threw all the responsibility of it upon the 
Queen, who alone, they said, could have ventured to give 
such rash advice, inoculation being at this time established 
in the Northern Courts. The operation upon the King 
and his brothers, performed by Dr. Jauberthou, was 
fortunately quite successful. 

When the convalescence of. the Princes was perfectly 
estabhshed, the excursions to Marly became cheerful 
enough. Parties on horseback and in calashes were 
formed continually. The Queen was desirous to afford 
herself one very innocent gratification ; she had never seen 
the day break ; and having now no other consent than that 
of the King to seek, she intimated her wish to him. He 
agreed that she should go, at three o'clock in the morning, 
to the eminences of the gardens of Marly; and, unfor- 
tunately, little disposed to partake in her amusements, he 
himself went to bed. Foreseeing some inconveniences 
possible in this nocturnal party, the Queen determined on 
having a number of people with her; and even ordered 
her waiting women to accompany her. All precautions 



58 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

were ineffectual to prevent the effects of calumny, which 
thenceforward sought to diminish the general attachment 
that she had inspired. A few days afterwards, the most 
wicked libel that appeared during the earlier years of her 
reign was circulated in Paris. The blackest colours were 
employed to paint an enjoyment so harmless that there is 
scarcely a young woman living in the country who has not 
endeavoured to procure it for herself. The verses which 
appeared on this occasion were entitled " Sunrise." 

The Due d'Orleans, then Due de Chartres, was among 
those who accompanied the young Queen in her nocturnal 
ramble : he appeared very attentive to her at this epoch ; 
but it was the only moment of his life in which there was 
any advance towards intimacy between the Queen and 
himself. The King disliked the character of the Due de 
Chartres, and the Queen always excluded him from her 
private society. It is therefore without the slightest found- 
ation that some writers have attributed to feelings of 
jealousy or wounded self-love the hatred which he dis- 
played towards the Queen during the latter years of their 
existence. 

It was on this first journey to Marly that Boehmer, the 
jeweller, appeared at Court ; a man whose stupidity and 
avarice afterwards fatally affected the happiness and repu- 
tation of Marie Antoinette. This person had, at great 
expense, collected six pear-formed diamonds of a prodigious 
size ; they were perfectly matched and of the finest water. 
The earrings which they composed had, before the death 
of Louis XV., been destined for the Comtesse du Barry. 

Boehmer, by the recommendation of several persons 
about the Court, came to offer these jewels to the Queen. 
He asked four hundred thousand francs for them. The 
young Princess could not withstand her wish to purchase 
them ; and the King having just raised the Queen's income, 



THE QUEEN AND THE JEWELLER 59 

which, under the former reign, had been but two hundred 
thousand hvres, to one hundred thousand crowns a year, 
she wished to make the purchase out of her own purse, 
and not burthen the royal treasury with the payment. 
She proposed to Boehmer to take off the two buttons which 
formed the tops of the clusters, as they could be replaced 
by two of her own diamonds. He consented, and then re- 
duced the price of the earrings to three hundred and sixty 
thousand francs ; the payment for which was to be made by 
instalments, and was discharged in the course of four or 
five years by the Queen's first femme de chainbre^ deputed 
to manage the funds of her privy purse.. I have omitted 
no details as to the manner in which the Queen first became 
possessed of these jewels, deeming them very needful to 
place in its true light the too famous circumstance of the 
necklace, which happened near the end of her reign. 

It was also on this first journey to Marly that the 
Duchesse de Chartres, afterwards Duchesse d'Orleans, 
introduced into the Queen's household Mademoiselle Bertin, 
a miUiner who became celebrated at that time for the total 
change she effected in the dress of the French ladies. 

It may be said that the mere admission of a milliner into 
the house of the Queen was followed by evil consequences 
to her Majesty. The skill of the milliner, who was re- 
ceived into the household, in spite of the custom which 
kept persons of her description out of it, afforded her the 
opportunity of introducing some new fashion every day. 
Up to this time the Queen had shown very plain taste in 
dress ; she now began to make it a principal occupation ; 
and she was of course imitated by other women. 

All wished instantly to have the same dress as the 
Queen, and to wear the feathers and flowers to which her 
beauty, then in its brilliancy, lent an indescribable charm. 
The expenditure of the younger ladies was necessarily 



6o PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

much increased ; mothers and husbands murmured at it ; 
some few giddy women contracted debts; unpleasant 
domestic scenes occurred; in many families coldness or 
quarrels arose ; and the general report was — that the Queen 
would be the ruin of all the French ladies. 

Fashion continued its fluctuating progress; and head- 
dresses, with their superstructures of gauze, flowers, and 
feathers, became so lofty that the women could not find 
carriages high enough to admit them ; and they were often 
seen either stooping, or holding their heads out of the 
windows. Others knelt down in order to manage these 
elevated objects of ridicule with less danger.'^ Innumerable 
caricatures, exhibited in all directions, and some of which 
artfully gave the features of the Queen, attacked the ex- 
travagance of fashion, but with very little effect. It 
changed only, as is always the case, through the influence 
of inconstancy and time. 

The Queen's toilette was a masterpiece of etiquette ; 
everything was done in a prescribed form. Both the 
dame d'honneur and the dame d^atours usually attended 
and officiated, assisted by the first femme de chambre and 
two ordinary women. The dame d'atours put on the 
petticoat, and handed the gown to the Queen. The dame 

^ If the use of these extravagant feathers and head-dresses had con- 
tinued, say the memoirs of that period very seriously, it would have 
effected a revolution in architecture. It would have been found necessary 
to raise the doors and ceilings of the boxes at the theatres, and par- 
ticularly the bodies of carriages. It was not without mortification that the 
King observed the Queen's adoption of this style of dress : she was never 
so lovely in his eyes as when unadorned by art. One day Carlin, per- 
forming at Court as harlequin, stuck in his hat, instead of the rabbit's tail, 
its prescribed ornament, a peacock's feather of excessive length. This 
new appendage, which repeatedly got entangled among the scenery, gave 
him an opportunity for a great deal of buffoonery. There was some in- 
clination to punish him ; but it was presumed that he had not assumed the 
feather without authority. — Note by the Editor. 



ROYAL ETIQUETTE 61 



d'honneur poured out the water for her hands and put on 
her linen. When a Princess of the royal family happened 
to be present while the Queen was dressing, the dame 
d'honneur yielded to her the latter act of office, but still 
did not yield it directly to the Princesses of the blood ; in 
such a case the dame d'honneur was accustomed to present 
the linen to the first femme de chambre, who, in her turn, 
handed it to the Princess of the blood. Each of these 
ladies observed these rules scrupulously as affecting her 
rights. One winter's day it happened that the Queen, 
who was entirely undressed, was just going to put on her 
shift ; I held it ready unfolded for her ; the dame d'honneur 
came in, slipped off her gloves, and took it. A scratching 
was heard at the door ; it was opened, and in came the 
Duchesse d'Orleans : her gloves were taken off, and she 
came forward to take the garment ; but as it would have 
been wrong in the dame d'honneur to hand it to her she 
gave it to me, and I handed it to the Princess. More 
scratching: it was Madame la Comtesse de Provence; 
the Duchesse d'Orleans handed her the Hnen. All this 
while the Queen kept her arms crossed upon her bosom, 
and appeared to feel cold ; Madame observed her uncom- 
fortable situation, and merely laying down her handkerchief 
without taking off her gloves, she put on the linen, and in 
doing so knocked the Queen's cap off. The Queen laughed 
to conceal her impatience, but not until she had muttered 
several times, "How disagreeable ! how tiresome !" 

All this etiquette, however inconvenient, was suitable to 
the royal dignity, which expects to find servants in all 
classes of persons, beginning even with the brothers and 
sisters of the monarch. 

Speaking here of etiquette, I do not allude to majestic 
state, appointed for days of ceremony in all Courts. I 
mean those minute ceremonies that were pursued towards 



62 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

our Kings in their inmost privacies, in their hours of 
pleasure, in those of pain, and even during the most revolt- 
ing of human infirmities.^ 

These servile rules were drawn up into a kind of code ; 
they offered to a Richeheu, a La Rochefoucauld, and a 
Duras, in the exercise of their domestic functions, oppor- 
tunities of intimacy useful to their interests ; and their 
vanity was flattered by customs which converted the right 
to give a glass of water, to put on a dress, and to remove a 
basin, into honourable prerogatives. 

Princes thus accustomed to be treated as divinities 
naturally ended by believing that they were of a distinct 
nature, of a purer essence than the rest of mankind. 

This sort of etiquette, which led our Princes to be 
treated in private as idols, made them in public martyrs to 
decorum. Marie Antoinette found in the Chateau of 
Versailles a multitude of established customs which ap- 
peared to her insupportable. 

The ladies-in-waiting, who were all obliged to be 
sworn, and to wear full Court dresses, were alone entitled 
to remain in the room, and to attend in conjunction 
with the dame dlionneiir and the tirewoman. The 
Queen abolished all this formality. When her head was 
dressed, she curtsied to all the ladies who were in her 
chamber, and; followed only by her own women, went into 
her closet, where Mademoiselle Bertin, who could not be 
admitted into the chamber, used to await her.^ It was in 

1 Vide Wraxall's Memoirs. 

2 Mademoiselle Bertin, it is said, upon the strength of the Queen's 
kindness, became ridiculously proud. A lady one day went to her to ask 
for some patterns of mourning for the Empress. Several were shown to 
her, all of which she rejected. Mademoiselle Bertin exclaimed in a tone 
made up of vexation and self-suthciency, ' ' Show her, then, some speci- 
mens of my last negotiations with her Majesty." However ridiculous the 
expression may sound, it was actually used as related. — Note hy the Editor. 



THE PUBLIC DINNERS 6^ 

this inner closet that she produced her new and numerous 
dresses. The Queen was also desirous of being served by 
the most fashionable hairdresser in Paris. Now the custom 
which forbade all persons in inferior offices, employed by 
royalty, to exert their talents for the public, was no doubt 
intended to cut off all communication between the privacy 
of princes and society at large; the latter being always 
extremely curious respecting the most trifling particulars 
relative to the private life of the former. The Queen, 
fearing that the taste of the hairdresser would suffer if he 
should discontinue the general practice of his art, ordered 
him to attend as usual certain ladies of the Court and of 
Paris; and this multiplied the opportunities of learning 
details respecting the household, and very often of mis- 
representing them. 

One of the customs most disagreeable to the Queen was 
that of dining every day in public. Marie Leczinska had 
always submitted to this wearisome practice; Marie 
Antoinette followed it as long as . she was Dauphiness. 
The Dauphin dined with her, and each branch of the family 
had its public dinner daily. The ushers suffered all 
decently-dressed people to enter : the sight was the delight 
of persons from the country. At the dinner-hour there 
were none to be met upon the stairs but honest folks, who, 
after having seen the Dauphiness take her soup, went to 
see the Princes eat their bouilli, and then ran themselves 
out of breath to behold Mesdames at their dessert. 

Very ancient usage, too, required that the Queens of 
France should appear in public surrounded only by women; 
even at meal-times no persons of the other sex attended to 
serve at table ; and although the King ate publicly with 
the Queen, yet he himself was served by women with 
everything which was presented to him directly at table. 
The dame d'hofineur, kneeling, for her own accommodation, 



64 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

upon a low stool, with a napkin upon her arm, and four 
women in full dress, presented the plates to the King and 
Queen. The dame d'honneur handed them drink. This 
service had formerly been the right of the maids of honour. 
The Queen, upon her accession to the throne, abolished 
the usage altogether. She also freed herself from the 
necessity of being followed in the Palace of Versailles by 
two of her women in Court dresses, during those hours of 
the day when the ladies-in-waiting were not with her. 
From that time she was accompanied only by a single valet 
de chamhre and two footmen. All the changes made by 
Marie Antoinette were of the same description; a disposition 
gradually to substitute the simple customs of Vienna for 
those of Versailles was more injurious to her than she could 
possibly have imagined. 

When the King slept in the Qi^een's apartment he always 
rose before her ; the exact hour was communicated to the 
head femine de chambre, who entered, preceded by a servant 
of the bed-chamber bearing a taper ; she crossed the room 
and unbolted the door which separated the Queen's apart- 
ment from that of the King. She there found the first 
valet de chamhre for the quarter, and a servant of the chamber. 
They entered, opened the bed curtains on the King's side, 
and presented him slippers generally, as well as the dressing- 
gown, which' he put on, of gold or silver stuff. The first 
valet de chambre took down a short sword which was always 
laid within the railing on the King's side. When the King 
slept with the Queen, this sword was brought upon the 
armchair appropriated to the King, and which was placed - 
near the Queen's bed, within the gilt railing which surrounded 
the bed. The f^xstfemme de chambre conducted the King 
to the door, bolted it again, and leaving the Queen's chamber 
did not return until the hour appointed by her Majesty the 
evening before. At night the Queen went to bed before • 



HO IV THE QUEEN WAS SERVED 65 

the King ; the first femme de chambre remained seated at the 
foot of her bed until the arrival of his Majesty, in order, as 
in the morning, to see the King's attendants out and bolt 
the door after them. The Queen awoke habitually at eight 
o'clock, and breakfasted at nine, frequently in bed, and 
sometimes after she had risen, at a small table placed 
opposite her couch. 

In order to describe the Queen's private service intel- 
ligibly, it must be recollected that service of every kind was 
honour, and had not any other denomination. To do the 
honours of the service was to present the service to a person 
of superior rank, who happened to arrive at the moment it 
was about to be performed : thus, supposing the Queen 
asked for a glass of water, the servant of the chamber handed 
to the first woman a silver gilt waiter, upon which were 
placed a covered goblet and a small decanter ; but should 
the lady of honour come in, the first woman was obliged to 
present the waiter to her, and if Madame or the Comtesse 
d'Artois came in at the moment the waiter went again from 
the lady of honour into the hands of the Princess before it 
reached the Queen. It must be observed, however, that if 
a Princess of the blood instead of a Princess of the family 
entered, the service went directly from the first woman to 
the Princess of the blood, the lady of honour being excused 
from transferring to any but Princesses of the royal family. 
Nothing was presented directly to the Queen ; her handker- 
chief or her gloves were placed upon a long salver of gold 
or silver gilt, which was placed as a piece of furniture of 
ceremony upon a side -table, and was called a gantiere. 
The first woman presented to her in this manner all that 
she asked for, unless the tirewoman, the lady of honour, or 
a Princess were present, and then the gradation pointed out 
in the instance of the glass of water was always observed. 

Whether the Queen breakfasted in bed or up, those 
5 



66 PRIVA TE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

entitled -to the petiies entrees were equally admitted ;' this 
privilege belonged of right to her chief physician, chief 
surgeon, physician in ordinary, reader, closet secretary, the 
King's four first valets de chai7ib7'e and their reversioners, 
and the King's chief physicians and surgeons. There were 
frequently from ten to twelve persons at this first entree. 
The lady of honour or the superintendent, if present, placed 
the breakfast equipage upon the bed : the Princesse de 
Lamballe frequently performed that office. 

As soon as the Queen rose the wardrobe woman was 
admitted to take away the pillows and prepare the bed to 
be made by some of the valets de chajnbre. She undrew 
the curtains, and the bed was not generally made until the 
Queen was gone to mass. Generally, excepting at Saint 
Cloud, where the Queen bathed in an apartment below her 
own, a slipper bath was rolled into her room, and her 
bathers brought everything that was necessary for the bath. 
The Queen bathed in a large gown of English flannel 
buttoned down to the bottom ; its sleeves throughout, as 
well as the collar, were lined with linen. When she came 
out of the bath the first woman held up a cloth to conceal 
her entirely from the sight of her women, and then threw it 
over her shoulders. The bathers wrapped her in it and 
dried her completely, she then put on a long and wide open 
chemise, entirely trimmed with lace, and afterwards a white 
taffety bed-gown. The wardrobe woman warmed the bed ; 
the slippers were of dimity, trimmed with lace. Thus 
dressed the Queen went to bed again, and the bathers and 
servants of the chamber took away the bathing apparatus. 
The Queen, replaced in bed, took a book or her tapestry 
work. On her bathing mornings she breakfasted in the 
bath. The tray was placed on the cover of the bath. These 
minute details are given here only to do justice to the 
Queen's scrupulous modesty. Her temperance was equally 



A ROYAL WARDROBE 67 



remarkable; she breakfasted on coffee or chocolate; at 
dinner ate nothing but white meat, drank water only, and 
supped on broth, a wing of a fowl, and small biscuits, which 
she soaked in a glass of water. 

The tirewoman had under her order a principal under- 
tirewoman, charged with the care and preservation of all the 
Queen's dresses ; two women to fold and press such articles 
as required it ; two valets, and a porter of the wardrobe. 
The latter brought every morning into the Queen's apart- 
ments baskets covered with taffety, containing all that she 
was to wear during the day, and large cloths of green taffety 
covering the robes and the full dresses. The valet of the 
wardrobe on duty presented every morning a large book to 
the first fe?n7ne de chainbre, containing patterns of the gowns, 
full dresses, undresses, etc. Every pattern was marked, 
to show to which sort it belonged. The first fenwie dc 
. chambre presented this book to the Queen on her awaking, 
with a pin-cushion ; her Majesty stuck pins in those articles 
which she chose for the day — one for the dress, one for the 
afternoon undress, and one for the full evening dress for 
card or supper parties in the private apartments. The 
book was then taken back to the wardrobe, and all that was 
wanted for the day was soon after brought in in large taffety 
wrappers. The wardrobe woman, who had the care of the 
linen, in her turn brought in a covered basket containing 
two or three chemises and handkerchiefs. The morning 
basket was called pret du jour. In the evening she brought 
in one containing the night-gown and night-cap, and the 
stockings for the next morning ; this basket was called pret 
de la mitt They were in the department of the lady of 
honour, the tirewoman having nothing to do with the 
Hnen. Nothing was put in order or taken care of by the 
Queen's women. As soon as the toilette was over, the 
valets and porter belonging to the wardrobe were called in 



68 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

and they carred all away in a heap, in the taffety wrappers, 
to the tirewoman's wardrobe, where all were folded up again, 
hung up, examined, and cleaned with so much regularity and 
care that even the cast-off clothes scarcely looked as if they 
had been worn. The tirewoman's wardrobe consisted of 
three large rooms surrounded with closets, some furnished 
with drawers and others with shelves ; there were also large 
tables in each of these rooms, on which the gowns and 
dresses were spread out and folded up. 

For the winter the Queen had generally twelve full dresses, 
twelve undresses called fancy dresses, and twelve rich hoop 
petticoats for the card and supper parties in the smaller 
apartments. 

She had as many for the summer ; those for the spring 
served likewise for the autumn. All these dresses were 
discarded at the end of each season, unless, indeed, she 
retained some that she particularly liked. I am not speak- 
ing of muslin or cambric gowns, or others of the same 
kind — they were lately introduced ; but such as these were 
not renewed at each returning season, they were kept several 
years. The chief women were charged with the care and 
examination of the diamonds ; this important duty was 
formerly confided to the tirewoman, but for many years had 
been included in the business of the ^x?X femmes de chambre. 

The public toilette took place at noon. The toilette 
table was drawn forward into the middle of the room. 
This piece of furniture was generally the richest and most 
ornamented of all in the apartment of the Princesses. The 
Queen used it in the same manner and place for undressing 
herself in the evening. She went to bed in corsets trimmed 
with ribbon, and sleeves trimmed with lace, and wore a large 
neck handkerchief The Queen's combing cloth was 
presented by her first woman if she was alone at the 
commencement of the toilette ; or, as well as the other 



THE queen's toilette 69 

* 

articles, by the ladies of honour if they were come. At 
noon the women who had been in attendance fom--and- 
twenty hours were relieved by two women in full dress ; the 
first woman went also to dress herself. The grandes entrees 
were admitted during the toilette ; sofas were placed in 
circles for the superintendent, the ladies of honour, and 
tirewomen, and the governess of the children of France 
when she came there ; the duties of the ladies of the bed- 
chamber having nothing to do with any kind of domestic 
or private functions, did not begin until the hour of going 
out to mass — they waited in the great closet, and entered 
when the toilette was over. The Princes of the blood, 
captains of the Guards, and all great officers having the entry 
paid their court at the hour of the toilette. The Queen saluted 
by nodding her head or bending her body, or leaning upon 
her toilette table as if moving to rise; the last mode of 
salutation was for the Princes of the blood. The King's 
brothers also came very generally to pay their respects to her 
Majesty while her hair was being dressed. In the earlier years 
of the reign the first part of the dressing was performed in the 
bed-chamber and according to the laws of etiquette — that is 
to say, the lady of honour put on the chemise and poured 
out the water for the hands, the tirewoman put on the skirt 
of the gown or full dress, adjusted the handkerchief, and 
tied on the necklace. But when the young Queen became 
more seriously devoted to fashion, arid the head-dress 
attained so extravagant a height that it became neces- 
sary to put on the chemise from below, — when, in short, 
she determined to have her milliner, Mademoiselle Bertin, 
with her whilst she was dressing, whom the ladies would 
have refused to admit to any share in the honour of attend- 
ing on the Queen, the dressing in the bed-chamber was 
discontinued, and the Queen, leaving her toilette, withdrew 
into her closet to dress. 



70 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

On returning into her chamber the Queen, standing 
about the middle of it, surrounded by the superintendent, 
the ladies of honour and tirewomen, her ladies of the palace, 
the chevalier d^honneur, the chief equerry, her clergy ready to 
attend her to mass, and the Princesses of the royal family who 
happened to come, accompanied by all their chief attend- 
ants and ladies, passed in order into the gallery as in going 
to mass. The Queen's signatures were generally given at 
the moment of entry into the chamber. The secretary for 
orders presented the pen. Presentations of colonels on 
taking leave were usually made at this time. Those of 
ladies, and such as had a right to the tabouret, or sitting in 
the royal presence, were made on Sunday evenings before 
card-playing began, on their coming in from paying their 
respects. Ambassadors were introduced to the Queen on 
Tuesday mornings, accompanied by the introducer of am- 
bassadors on duty, and by M. de Sequeville, the secretary 
for the ambassadors. The introducer in waiting usually 
came to the Queen at her toilette to apprise her of the pre- 
sentations of foreigners which would be made. The usher 
of the chamber, stationed at the entrance, opened the folding 
doors to none but the Princes and Princesses of the royal 
family, and announced them aloud. Quitting his post, he 
came forward to name to the lady of honour the persons 
who came to be presented, or who came to take leave ; that 
lady again named them to the Queen at the moment they 
saluted her ; if she and the tirewoman were absent, the first 
woman took the place and did that duty. The ladies of 
the bed-chamber, chosen solely as companions for the Queen, 
had no domestic duties to fulfil, however opinion might 
dignify such offices. The King's letter in appointing them, 
among other instructions of etiquette, ran thus : " Having 
chosen you to bear the Queen company." There were 
hardly any emoluments accruing from this place. 



GRAND CHAPEL DAYS 



The Queen heard mass with the King in the tribune, 
facing the grand altar and the choir, with the exception of 
the days of high ceremony, when their chairs were placed 
below upon velvet carpets fringed with gold. These days 
were marked by the name oi grand chapel days. 

The Queen named the collector beforehand, and informed 
her of it through her lady of honour, who was besides 
desired to send the purse to her. The collectors were 
almost always chosen from among those who had been 
recently presented. After returning from mass the Queen 
dined every Sunday with the King only, in public in the 
cabinet of the nobility, a room leading to, her chamber. 
Titled ladies having the honours sat during the dinner upon 
folding-chairs placed on each side of the table. Ladies 
without titles stood round the table ; the captain of the 
Guards and the first gentleman of the chamber were behind 
the King's chair ; behind that of the Queen were her first 
maztre d'' hotel, her chevalier d^ho7tneur, and the chief equerry. 
The Queen's 7naitre d' hotel was furnished with a large staff, 
six or seven feet in length, ornamented with golden fleurs 
de lis, and surmounted by fleurs de lis in the form of a 
crown. He entered the room with this badge of his office 
to announce that the Queen was served. The comptroller 
put into his hands the card of the dinner ; in the absence 
of the mattre d^hotel he presented it to the Queen himself, 
otherwise he only did him the honours of the service. The 
maitre d' hotel did not leave his place, he merely gave the 
orders for serving up and removing ; the comptroller and 
gentlemen serving placed the various dishes upon the table, 
receiving them from the inferior servants. 

The Prince nearest to the Crown presented water to wash 
the King's hands at the moment he placed himself at table, 
and a Princess did the same service to the Queen. 

The table service was formerly performed for the Queen 



72 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

by the lady of honour and four women in full dress ; this 
part of the women's service was transferred to them on the 
suppression of the office of maids of honour. The Queen 
put an end to this etiquette in the first year of her reign. 
When the dinner was over the Queen returned without the 
King to her apartment with her women, and took off her 
hoop and train. 

This unfortunate Princess, against whom the opinions of 
the French people were at length so much excited, possessed 
qualities which deserved to obtain the greatest popularity. 
None could doubt this who, like myself, had heard her with 
delight describe the patriarchal manners of the House of 
Lorraine. She was accustomed to say that, by transplanting 
their manners into Austria, the Princes of that House had 
laid the foundation of the unassailable popularity enjoyed 
by the imperial family. She frequently related to me the 
interesting manner in which the Dukes of Lorraine levied 
the taxes. "The sovereign Prince," said she, "went to 
church '; after the sermon he rose, waved his hat in the air, 
to show that he was about to speak, and then mentioned 
the sum whereof he stood in need. Such was the zeal of 
the good Lorrainers that men have been known to take 
away linen or household utensils without the knowledge of 
their wives, and sell them to add the value to their contribu- 
tion. It sometimes happened, too, that the Prince received 
more money than he had asked for, in which case he 
restored the surplus." 

All who were acquainted with the Queen's private 
qualities knew that she equally deserved attachment and 
esteem. Kind and patient to excess in her relations with 
her household, she indulgently considered all around 
her, and interested herself in their fortunes and in their 
pleasures. She had, among her women, young girls from 
the Maison de Saint Cyr, all well born ; the Queen forbade 



THE queen's protegees 73 

them the play when the performances were not suitable ; 
sometimes, when old plays were to be represented, if she 
found she could not with certainty trust to her memory, she 
would take the trouble to read them in the morning, to 
enable her to decide whether the girls should or should 
not go to see them ; rightly considering herself bound to 
watch over their morals and conduct. 



CHAPTER V 

Examination of the papers of Louis XV. by Louis XVI. — Man in the 
iron mask — The late King's interest in certain financial companies 
— Representation of Iphigejtia in Aulis — The King gives Petit 
Trianon to the Queen — The Archduke Maximilian's journey to 
France — Questions of precedence — Misadventure of the Archduke 
— Accouchement of the Comtesse d'Artois — The poissardes cry out 
to the Queen to give heirs to the throne — Death of the Due de la 
Vauguyon — Portrait of Louis XVI. ; of the Comte de Provence ; 
of the Comte d'Artois. 

During the first few months of his reign Louis XVI. dwelt 
at La Muette, Marly, and Compiegne. When settled at 
Versailles he occupied himself with a general examination 
of his grandfather's papers. He had promised the Queen 
to communicate to her all that he might discover relative 
to the history of the man with the iron mask, who, he 
thought, had become so inexhaustible a source of conjecture 
only in consequence of the interest which the pen of a 
celebrated writer had excited respecting the detention of a 
prisoner of State, who was merely a man of whimsical tastes 
and habits. 

I was with the Queen when the King, having finished 
his researches, informed her that he had not found anything 
among the secret papers elucidating the existence of this 
prisoner ; that he had conversed on the matter with M. de 
Maurepas, whose age made him contemporary with the 
epoch during which the story must have been known to 



THE IRON MASK 75 



the ministers ; and that M. de Maurepas had assured him 
he was merely a prisoner of a very dangerous character, in 
consequence of his disposition for intrigue. He was a 
subject of the Duke of Mantua, and was enticed to the 
frontier, arrested there, and kept prisoner, first at Pignerol, 
and afterwards in the Bastile. This transfer took place in 
consequence of the appointment of the governor of the 
former place to the government of the latter. It was for 
fear the prisoner should profit by the inexperience of 
a new governor that he was sent with the Governor of 
Pignerol to the Bastile. 

Such was, in fact, the truth about the man on whom 
people have been pleased to fix an iron mask. And thus 

was it related in writing, and published by M. twenty 

years ago. He had searched the archives of the Foreign 
Office, and laid the real story before the pubHc; but the 
public, prepossessed in favour of a marvellous version, 
vfould not acknowledge the authenticity of his account. 
Every man relied upon the authority of Voltaire ; and it 
was believed that a natural or a twin brother of Louis XIV. 
lived many years in prison with a mask over his face. 
The story of this mask, perhaps, had its origin in the old 
custom, among both men and women in Italy, of wearing 
a velvet mask when they exposed themselves to the sun. 
It is possible that the Italian captive may have sometimes 
shown himself upon the terrace of his prison with his face 
thus covered. As to the silver plate which this celebrated 
prisoner is said to have thrown from his window, it is 
known that such a circumstance did happen, but it happened 
at Valzin, in the time of Cardinal RicheHeu. This anec- 
dote has been mixed up with the inventions respecting the 
Piedmontese prisoner. 

In this survey of the papers of Louis XV, by his grandson 
some very curious particulars relative to his private treasury 



76 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

were found. Shares in various financial companies afforded 
him a revenue, and had in course of time produced him a 
capital of some amount, which he applied to his secret 
expenses. The King collected his vouchers of title to these 
shares, and made a present of them to M. Thierry de Ville 
d'Avray, his chief valet de chambre. 

The Queen was desirous to secure the comfort of 
Mesdames, the daughters of Louis XV., who were held in 
the highest respect. About this period she contributed to 
furnish them with a revenue sufficient to provide them an 
easy pleasant existence. The King gave them the Chateau 
of Bellevue ; and added to the produce of it, which was 
given up to them, the expenses of their table and equipage, 
and payment of all the charges of their household, the 
number of which was even increased. During the lifetime 
of Louis XV., who was a very selfish Prince, his daughters, 
although they had attained forty years of age, had no other 
place of residence than their apartments in the Chateau of 
Versailles ; no other walks than such as they could take in 
the large park of that palace; and no other means of 
gratifying their taste for the cultivation of plants but by 
having boxes and vases, filled with them, in their balconies 
or their closets. They had, therefore, reason to be much 
pleased with the conduct of Marie Antoinette, who had the 
greatest influence in the King's kindness towards his aunts. 

Paris did not cease, during the first years of the reign, 
to give proofs of pleasure whenever the Queen appeared at 
any of the plays of the capital. At the representation of 
Iphigenia in Aulis, the actor who sang the words, " Let us 
sing, let us celebrate oiw Queen /" which were repeated by 
the chorus, directed by a respectful movement the eyes 
of the whole assembly upon her Majesty. Reiterated cries 
of Bis ! and clapping of hands, were followed by such a 
burst of enthusiasm that many of the audience added their 



PETIT TRIANON GIVEN TO THE QUEEN 77 

voices to those of the actors in order to celebrate, it might 
too truly be said, another Iphigenia. The Queen, deeply 
affected, covered her eyes with her handkerchief; and this 
proof of sensibility raised the public enthusiasm to a still 
higher pitch.^ 

The King gave Marie Antoinette Petit Trianon,^ Hence- 
forward she amused herself with improving the gardens, 
without allowing any addition to the building, or any change 
in the furniture, which was very shabby ; and remained, in 
1789, in the same state as during the reign of Louis XV. 
Everything there, without exception, was preserved ; and 
the Queen slept in a faded bed, which had been used by the 
Comtesse du Barry. The charge of extravagance, generally 
made against the Queen, is the most unaccountable of all 
the popular errors respecting her character. She had 
exactly the contrary failing; and I could prove that she 
often carried her economy to a degree of parsimony actually 
blamable, especially in a sovereign. She took a great 
liking for Trianon, and used to go there alone, followed by 
a valet; but she found attendants ready to receive her — a 
concih'ge, and his wife who served her as femme de chambre ; 
women of the wardrobe, footmen, etc. 

When she first took possession of Petit Trianon, it was 

^ The theatre was a constant topic of conversation at Court. When the 
Queen had not been present, she never omitted asking, "Was it vv^ell 
attended ? " I have heard more than one courteous Duke reply with a bow, 
" There was not' even a cat." This did not mean that the theatre was 
empty. It was even possible that it might be full ; but only with honest 
citizens and country gentry. The nobility affected to know only their own 
class. — Mada?ne Campaii. 

^ The Chateau of Petit Trianon, which was built for Louis XV. , was not 
remarkably handsome as a building. The luxuriance of the hothouses 
rendered the place agreeable to that Prince. He spent a few days there 
several times in the year. It was when he was setting off from Versailles 
for Petit Trianon that he was struck in the side by the knife of Damiens ; 
and it was there that he was attacked by the smallpox, of which he died on 
the loth of May 1774. — Madame Campan, 



7S PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

reported that she had changed the name of the seat which 
the King had given her, and called it Little Vienna^ or 
Little Schoe?ibrunn. A person who belonged to the Court, 
and was silly enough to give this report credit, wishing to 
visit Petit Trianon with a party, wrote to M. Cam pan, 
requesting the Queen's permission to do so. In his note he 
called Trianon Little Vienna. Similar requests were usually 
laid before the Queen just as they were made : she chose to 
give the permissions to see her gardens herself, liking to 
grant these little favours. When she came to the words I 
have quoted she was very much offended, and exclaimed, 
angrily, that there were too many fools ready to aid the 
maUcious ; that she had been told of the report circulated, 
which pretended that she had thought of nothing but her 
own country, and that she kept an Austrian heart, while the 
interests of France alone ought to engage her. She refused 
the request so awkwardly made, and desired M. Campan to 
reply, that Trianon was not to be seen for some time ; and 
that the Queen was astonished that any man in good society 
should believe she would do so ill-judged a thing as to 
change the French names of her palaces to foreign ones. 

Before the Emperor Joseph II. 's first visit to France the 
Queen received a visit from the Archduke Maximilian in 
1775. A stupid act of the ambassador, seconded on the 
part of the Qiieen by the Abbe de Vermond, gave rise at 
that period to a discussion which offended the Princes of 
the blood and the chief nobility of the kingdom. TraveUing 
incognito^ the young Prince claimed that the first visit was 
not due from him to the Princes of the blood ; and the 
Queen supported his pretension. 

From the time of the Regency, and on account of the 
residence of the family of Orleans in the bosom of the 
capital, Paris had preserved a remarkable degree of attach- 
ment and respect for that branch of the royal house ; and 



THE ARCHDUKE MAXIMILIAN 79 

although the crown was becoming more and more remote 
from the Princes of the House of Orleans, they had the 
advantage (a great one with the Parisians) of being the 
descendants of Henry IV. An affront to that popular family 
was a serious ground of dislike to the Queen. It was at 
this period that the circles of the city, and even of the Court, 
expressed themselves bitterly about her levity, and her 
partiality for the House of Austria. The Prince for whom 
the Queen had embarked in an important family quarrel — 
and a quarrel involving national prerogatives — was, besides, 
little calculated to inspire interest. Still young, uninformed, 
and deficient in, natural talent, he was always making 
blunders. 

He went to the Jardin du Roi; M. de Butfon, who 
received him there, offered him a copy of his works ; the 
Prince declined accepting the book, saying to M. de Buffon 
in the most polite manner possible, " I should be very sorry 
to deprive you of it."^ It may be supposed that the 
Parisians were much entertained with this answer. 

The Queen was exceedingly mortified at the mistakes 
made by her brother ; but what hurt her most was being 
accused of preserving an Austrian heart. Marie Antoinette 
had more than once to endure that imputation during the 
long course of her misfortunes. Habit did not stop the 
tears such injustice caused ; but the first time she was sus- 
pected of not loving France, she gave way to her indigna- 
tion. All that she could say on the subject was useless \ 
by seconding the pretensions of the Archduke she had put 
arms into her enemies' hands ; they were labouring to 
deprive her of the love of the people ; and endeavoured, 
by all possible means, to spread a beUef that the Queen 

1 Joseph II. , on his visit to France, also went to see M. de Buffon, and 
said to that celebrated man, ' ' I am come to fetch the copy of your works 
which my brother forgot." — Note by the Editor. 



So PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

sighed for Germany, and preferred that country to 
France. 

Marie Antionette had none but herself to rely on for 
preserving the fickle smiles of the Court and the public. 
The King, too indifferent to serve her as a guide, as yet 
had conceived no love for her, notwithstanding the intimacy 
that grew between them at Choisy. In his closet Louis 
XVI. was immersed in deep study. At the council he was 
busied with the welfare of his people; hunting and 
mechanical occupations engrossed his leisure moments, and 
he never thought on the subject of an heir. 

The Coronation took place at Rheims, with all the 
accustomed pomp. At this period the people's love for 
Louis XVI. burst forth in transports not to be mistaken for 
party demonstrations or idle curiosity. He replied to this 
enthusiasm by marks of confidence, worthy of a people 
happy in being governed by a good King; he took a 
pleasure in repeatedly walking without guards, in the midst 
of the crowd which pressed around him, and called down 
blessings on his head. I remarked the impression made at 
this time by an observation of Louis XVI. On the day of 
his coronation he put his hand up to his head, at the 
moment of the crown being placed upon it, and said, " It 
pinches me." Henry III. had exclaimed, "It pricks me." 
Those who were near the King were struck with the simi- 
larity between these two exclamations, though not of a 
class likely to be blinded by the superstitious fears of 
ignorance. 

While the Queen, neglected as she was, could not even 
hope for the happiness of being a mother, she had the 
mortification of seeing the Comtesse d'Artois give birth to 
the Due d'Angouleme. 

Custom required that the royal family and the whole 
Court should be present at the accouchement of the 



BIRTH OF THE DUC D' ANGOULEME 8i 

Princesses ; the Queen was therefore obHged to stay a 
whole day in her sister-in-law's chamber. The moment 
the Comtesse d'Artois was informed a Prince was born, 
she put her hand to her forehead and exclaimed with 
energy, "My God, how happy I am!" The Queen felt 
very differently at this involuntary and natural exclamation. 
Nevertheless, her behaviour was perfect. She bestowed all 
possible marks of tenderness upon the young mother, and 
would not leave her until she was again put into bed ; she 
afterwards passed along the staircase, and through the hall 
of the guards, with a calm demeanour, in the midst of an 
immense crowd. ThQ poissardes, who had assumed a right 
of speaking to sovereigns in their own vulgar language, 
followed her to the very doors of her apartments, calling 
out to her, with gross expressions, that she ought to produce 
heirs. The Queen reached her inner room, hurried and 
agitated ; she shut herself up to weep with me alone, not 
from jealousy of her sister-in-law's happiness — of that she 
was incapable — but from sorrow at her own situation. 

Deprived of the happiness of giving an heir to the crown, 
the Queen endeavoured to interest herself in the children 
of the people of her household. She had long been desir- 
ous to bring up one of them herself, and to make it the 
constant object of her care. A little village boy, four or 
five years old, full of health, with a pleasing countenance, 
remarkably large blue eyes, and fine light hair, got under 
the feet of the Queen's horses, when she was taking an 
airing in a calash, through the hamlet of Saint Michel, near 
Louveciennes. The coachman and postilions stopped the 
horses, and the child was rescued without the slightest 
injury. Its grandmother rushed out of the door of her 
cottage to take it; but the Queen, standing up in her 
calash and extending her arms, called out that the child 
was hers, and that destiny had given it to her, to console 

6 



82 PRIVA TE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

her, no doubt, until she should have the happiness of 
having one herself. "Is his mother alive?" asked the 
Queen. " No, Madame ; my daughter died last winter, 
and left five small children upon my hands." — " I will take 
this one, and provide for all the rest ; do you consent?" — 
" Ah, Madame, they are too fortunate," replied the cottager ; 
" but Jacques is a bad boy. I hope he will stay with you ! " 
The Queen, taking little Jacques upon her knee, said that 
she would make him used to her; and gave orders to 
proceed. It was necessary, however, to shorten the drive, 
so violently did Jacques scream, and kick the Queen and 
her ladies. 

The arrival of her Majesty at her apartments at Versailles, 
holding the little rustic by the hand, astonished the whole 
household ; he cried out with intolerable shrillness that he 
wanted his grandmother, his brother Louis, and his sister 
Marianne, — nothing could calm him. He was taken away 
by the wife of a servant, who was appointed to attend him 
as nurse. The other children were put to school. Little 
Jacques, whose family name was Armand, came back to the 
Queen two days afterwards ; a white frock trimmed with 
lace, a rose-coloured sash with silver fringe, and a hat 
decorated with feathers, were now substituted for the woollen 
cap, the little red frock, and the wooden shoes. The child 
was really very beautiful. The Queen was enchanted with 
him ; he was brought to her every morning at nine o'clock ; 
he breakfasted and dined with her, and often even with the 
King. She liked to call him my child} and lavished caresses 
upon him, still maintaining a deep silence respecting the 
regrets which constantly occupied her heart. 

^ This little unfortunate was nearly twenty in 1792 ; the fury of the 
people and the fear of being thought a favourite of the Queen's had made 
him the most sanguinary terrorist of Versailles. He was killed at the 
battle of Jemappes. — Madame Cdmpati. 



THE queen's adopted CHILD 83 

This child remained with the Queen until the time when 
Madame was old enough to come home to her august 
mother, who had particularly taken upon herself the care of 
her education. 

The Queen talked incessantly of the qualities which she 
admired in Louis XVI., and gladly attributed to herself the 
slightest favourable change in his manner ; perhaps she dis- 
played too unreservedly the joy she felt, and the share she 
appropriated in the improvement. One day Louis XVL 
saluted her ladies with more kindness than usual, and the 
Queen laughingly said to them, " Now confess, ladies, that 
for one so badly taught as a child, the King has saluted you 
with very good grace ! " 

The Queen hated M. de La Vauguyon ; she accused him 
alone of those points in the habitSj- and even the sentiments, 
of the King which hurt her. A former first woman of the 
bed-chamber to Queen Maria Leczinska had continued in 
office near the young Queen. She was one of those people 
who are fortunate enough to spend their lives in the service 
of kings without knowing anything of what is passing at 
Court. She was a great devotee ; the Abbe Grisel, an ex- 
Jesuit, was her director. Being rich from her savings, and 
an income of 50,000 livres, she kept a very good table ; in 
her apartment, at the Grand Commun, the most dis- 
tinguished persons who still adhered to the Order of Jesuits 
often assembled. The Due de la Vauguyon was intimate 
with her; their chairs at the Eghse des Recollets were 
placed near each other ; at high mass and at vespers they 
sang the Gloria in Excehis and the Magnificat together ; 
and the pious virgin, seeing in him only one of God's elect, 
little imagined him to be the declared enemy of a Princess 
whom she served and revered. On the day of his death 
she ran in tears to relate to the Queen the piety, humility, 
and repentance of the last moments of the Due de la 



84 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Vauguyon. He had called his people together, she said, to 
ask their pardon. — " For what ?" replied the Queen sharply ; 
" he has placed and pensioned off all his servants ; it was of 
the King and his brothers that the holy man you bewail 
should have asked pardon ; for having paid so little atten- 
tion to' the education of Princes on whom the fate and 
happiness of twenty-five millions of men depend. Luckily,'" 
added she, " the King and his brothers, still young, have in- 
cessantly laboured to repair the errors of their preceptor." 

The progress of time, and the confidence with which the 
King and the Princes his brothers were inspired by the 
change in their situation since the death of Louis XV., had 
developed their characters. I will endeavour to depict 
them. 

The features of Louis XVL were noble enough, though 
somewhat melancholy in expression ; his walk was heavy 
and unmajestic; his person greatly neglected; his hair, 
whatever might be the skill of his hairdresser, was soon in 
disorder. His voice, without being harsh, was not agree- 
able ; if he grew animated in speaking he often got above 
his natural pitch, and became shrill. The Abbe de Radon- 
villiers, his preceptor, one of the forty of the French 
Academy, a learned and amiable man, had given him and 
Monsieur a taste for study. The King had continued to 
instruct himself; he knew the English language perfectly : 
I have often heard him translate some of the most difficult 
passages in Milton's poems. He was a skilful geographer, 
and was fond of drawing and colouring maps ; he was well 
versed in history, but had not perhaps sufficiently studied 
the spirit of it. He appreciated dramatic beauties, and 
judged them accurately. At Choisy, one day, several ladies 
expressed their dissatisfaction because the French actors 
were going to perform one of Moliere's pieces. The King 
inquired why they disapproved of the choice. One of them 



THE king's literary pursuits 85 

answered that everybody must admit that Moliere had very 
bad taste ; the King replied that many things might be 
found in Moliere contrary to fashion, but that it appeared 
to him difficult to point out any in bad taste. ^ This Prince 

1 The King, having purchased the Chateau of Rambouillet from the 
Due de Penthievre, amused himself with embelhshing it. I have seen a 
register entirely in his own handwriting, which proves that he possessed a 
great variety of information on the minutiae of various branches of know- 
ledge. In his accounts he would not omit an outlay of twelve pence. 
His figures and letters, when he wished to write legibly, were small and 
very neat, but in general he wrote very ill. He was so sparing of paper 
that he divided a sheet into eight, six, or four pieces, according to the 
length of what he had to write. Towards the close of the page he com- 
pressed the letters, and avoided interlineations. The last words were close 
to the edge of the paper ; he seemed to regret being obliged to begin 
another page. He was methodical and analytical ; he divided what he 
wrote into chapters and sections. He had extracted from the works of 
Nicole and F6n61on, his favourite authors, three or four hundred concise 
and sententious phrases, these he had classed according to subject, and 
formed a work of them in the style of Montesquieu. To this treatise he 
had given the following general title : Of Moderate Monarchy (De la 
Monarchie temper^e), with chapters entitled, "Of the Person of the 
Prince ; " " Of the Authority of Bodies in the State ; " "Of the Character 
of the Executive Functions of the Monarchy." Had he been able to 
carry into effect all the grand precepts he had observed in F^n^lon, 
Louis XVI. would have been an accomplished monarch, France a powerful 
kingdom. The King used to accept the speeches his ministers presented 
to him to deliver on important occasions ; but he corrected and modified 
them ; struck out some parts, and added others ; and sometimes consulted 
the Queen on the subject. The phrase of the minister erased by the King 
was frequently unsuitable, and dictated by the minister's private feelings ; 
but the King's was always the natural expression. He himself composed, 
three times or oftener, his famous answers to the Parliament which he 
banished. But in his letters he was negligent, and always incorrect. 
Simplicity was the characteristic of the King's style ; the figurative style of 
M. Necker did not please him ; the sarcasms of Maurepas were disagree- 
able to him. Unfortunate Prince ! he would predict, in his observations, 
that if such a calamity should happen, the monarchy would be ruined ; 
and the next day he would consent in council to the very measure which 
he had condemned the day before, and which brought him nearer the 
brink of the precipice. — Historical and Political .Memoirs of the Reign of 
Louis XVI,, by Soulavie, vol. ii. 



86 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

combined with his attainments the attributes of a good 
husband, a tender father, and an indulgent master. 

Unfortunately he showed too much predilection for the 
mechanical arts; masonry and lock-making so delighted 
him that he admitted into his private apartment a common 
locksmith, with whom he made keys and locks ; and his 
hands, blackened by that sort of work, were often, in my 
presence, the subject of remonstrances and even sharp 
reproaches from the Queen, who would have chosen other 
amusements for her husband.^ 

Austere and rigid with regard to himself alone, the King 
observed the laws of the Church with scrupulous exactness. 
He fasted and abstained throughout the whole of Lent. 
He thought it right that the Queen should not observe 
these customs with the same strictness. Though sincerely 
pious, 'the spirit of the age had disposed his mind to tolera- 
tion. Modest and simple in his habits, Turgot, Malesherbes, 
and Necker judged that a Prince of such a character would 
willingly sacrifice the royal prerogative to the solid greatness 
of his people. His heart, in truth, disposed him towards 
reforms ; but his prejudices and fears, and the clamours of 
pious and privileged persons, intimidated him, and made him 
abandon plans which his love for the people had suggested. 

Monsieur^ had more dignity of demeanour than the 
King ; but his- corpulence rendered his gait inelegant. He 

1 Louis XVI. saw that the art of lock-making was capable ot applica- 
tion to a higher study. He was an excellent geographer. The most 
valuable and complete instrument for the study of that science was begun 
by his orders and under his direction. It was an immense globe of 
copper, which was long preserved, though unfinished, in the Mazarine 
library. Louis XVI. invented and had executed under his own eyes the 
ingenious mechanism required for this globe. — Note by the Editor. 

2 During his stay at Avignon, Monsieur, afterwards Louis XVIII., 
lodged with the Due de Crillon ; he refused the town-guard which was 
offered him, saying, "A son of France, under the roof of a Crillon, 
needs no guard." — Note by the Editor. 



THE KING S BROTHERS 87 

was fond of pageantry and magnificence. He cultivated 
the belles lettres, and under assumed names often contributed 
verses to the Mercury and other papers. 

His wonderful memory was the handmaid of his wit, 
furnishing him with the happiest quotations. He knew by 
heart from the finest passages of the Latin classics to the 
Latin of all the prayers ; from the works of Racine to the 
vaudeville of Rose et Colas. 

The Comte d'Artois^ had an agreeable countenance, 
was well made, skilful in bodily exercises, lively, impetuous, 
fond of pleasure, and very particular in his dress. Some 
happy observations made by him were repeated with appro- 
val, and gave a favourable idea of his heart. The Parisians 
liked the open and frank character of this Prince, which 
they considered national, and showed real affection for him. 

The dominion that the Queen gained over the King's 
mind, the charms of a society in which Monsieur displayed 
his wit, and to which the Comte d'Artois gave life by the 
vivacity of youth, gradually softened that ruggedness of 
manner in Louis XVI. which a better-conducted education 
might have prevented. Still this defect often showecj 
itself, and, in spite of his extreme simplicity, the King 
inspired those who had occasion to speak to him with 
diffidence. Courtiers, submissive in the presence of their 
sovereign, are only the more ready to caricature him ; with 
little good breeding, they called those answers they so much 
dreaded, les coups de boutoir du Roi? 

Methodical in all his habits, the King always went to 
bed at eleven precisely. One evening the Queen was going 
with her usual circle to a party, either at the Due de Duras's 
or the Princesse de Guemenee's. The hand of the clock 

1 Afterwards Charles X, 

2 The literal meaning of the phrase ''coup de boutoir,'' is a thrust from 
the snout of a boar. 



88 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 



was slily put forward to hasten the King's departure by a 
few minutes ; he thought bed-time was come, retired, and 
found none of his attendants ready to wait on him. This 
joke became known in all the drawing-rooms of Versailles, 
and was disapproved of there. Kings have no privacy. 
Queens have no boudoirs. If those who are in immediate 
attendance upon sovereigns be not themselves disposed to 
transmit their private habits to posterity, the meanest valet 
will relate what he has seen or heard ; his gossip circulates 
rapidly, and forms public opinion, which at length ascribes 
to the most august persons characters which, however untrue 
they may be, are almost always indelible. 



Annex to Chapter V. 

The following extract illustrates the character and habits of 
Louis XVI. :— 

"The only passion ever shown by I.ouis XVI. was for hunting. 
He was so much occupied by it that when I went up into his private 
closets at Versailles, after the loth of August, I saw upon the stair- 
case six frames, in which were seen statements of all his hunts, when 
Dauphin and when King. In them was detailed the number, kind, 
and quality of the game he had killed at each hunting party during 
every month, every season, and every year of his reign. 

" The interior of his private apartments was thus arranged : a salon, 
ornamented with gilded mouldings, displayed the engravings which had 
been dedicated to him ; drawings of the canals he had dug, with the 
model of that of Burgundy ; and the plan of the cones and works of 
Cherbourg. The upper hall contained his collection of geographical 
charts, spheres, globes, and also his geographical cabinet. There were 
to be seen drawings of maps which he had begun, and some that he 
had finished. He had a clever method of washing them in. His 
geographical memory was prodigious. Over the hall was the turning 
and joining room, furnished with ingenious instruments for working in 



LIBRARY OF LOUIS XVI 



wood. He inherited some from Louis XV., and he often busied 
himself, with Buret's assistance, in keeping them clean and bright. 
Above was the library of books published during his reign. The 
prayer books and manuscript books of Anne of Brittany, Francis I., 
the later Valois, Louis XIV,, Louis XV., and the Dauphin, formed 
the great hereditary library of the Chateau. Louis XVI. placed 
separately, in two apartments communicating with each other, the 
works of his own time, including a complete collection of Didot's 
editions, in vellum, every volume enclosed in a morocco case. There 
were several English works, among the rest the debates of the British 
Parliament, in a great number of volumes in folio (this is the Moniteur 
of England, a complete collection of which is so valuable and so 
scarce). By the side of this collection was to be seen a manuscript 
history of all the schemes for a descent upon that island, particulai-ly 
that of Comte de Broglie. One of the presses of this cabinet was full 
of cardboard boxes, containing papers relative to the House of Austria, 
inscribed in the King's own hand : ' Secret papers of my family 
respecting the Hottse of Austria ; papers of my family respecting the 
Houses of Stuart and Hanover.'' In an adjoining press were kept 
papers relative to Russia. Satirical works against Catherine II. and 
against Paul I. were sold in France under the name of histories ; Louis 
XVI. collected and sealed up with his small seal the scandalous 
anecdotes against Catherine II., as well as the works of Rhulieres, of 
which he had a copy, to be certain that the secret life of that Princess, 
which attracted the curiosity of her contemporaries, should not be made 
public by his means. 

"Above the King's private library were a forge, two anvils, and a 
vast number of iron tools ; various common locks, well made and 
perfect ; some secret locks, and locks ornamented with gilt copper. It 
was there that the infamous Gamin, who afterwards accused the King 
of having tried to poison him, and was rewarded for his calumny with 
a pension of twelve thousand livres, taught him the art of lock-making. 
This Gamin, who became our guide, by order of the department and 
municipality of Versailles, did not, however, denounce the King on the 
20th December 1792. He had been made the confidant of that Prince 
in an immense number of important commissions ; the King had sent 
him the Red Book, from Paris, in a parcel ; and the part which was 
concealed during the Constituent Assembly still remained so in 1793. 
Gamin hid it in a part of the Chateau inaccessible to everybody, and 
took it from under the shelves of a secret press before our eyes. This 
is a convincing proof that Louis XVI. hoped to return to his Chateau, 



90 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

When teaching Louis XVI. his trade Gamin took upon himself the 
tone and authority of a master. ' The King was good, forbearing, 
timid, inquisitive, and addicted to sleep,' said Gamin to me ; 'he was 
fond to excess of lock-making, and he concealed himself from the 
Queen and the Court to file and forge with me. In order to convey 
his anvil and my own backwards and forwards we were obliged to use 
a thousand stratagems, the history of which would never end.' Above 
the King's and Gamin's forges and anvils was an observatory, erected 
upon a platform covered with lead. There, seated on an armchair, 
and assisted by a telescope, the King observed all that was passing in 
the courtyards of Versailles, the avenue of Paris, and the neighbouring 
gardens. He had taken a liking to Duret, one of the indoor servants 
of the Palace, who sharpened his tools, cleaned his anvils, pasted his 
maps, and adjusted eye-glasses to the King's sight, who was short- 
sighted. This good Duret, and indeed all the indoor servants, spoke 
of their master with regret and affection, and with tears in their eyes. 

"The King was born weak and delicate; but from the age of 
twenty -four he possessed a robust constitution, inherited from his 
mother, who was of the House of Saxe, celebrated for generations for 
its robustness. There were two men in Louis XVI., the man of knozv- 
ledge and the man of will. The King knew the history of his own 
family and of the first houses of France perfectly. He composed the 
instructions for M. de la Peyrouse's voyage round the world, which the 
minister thought were drawn up by several members of the Academy 
of Sciences. His memory retained an infinite number of names and 
situations. He remembered quantities and numbers wonderfully. One 
day an account was presented to him in which the minister had ranked 
among the expenses an item inserted in the account of the preceding 
year. 'There is a double charge,' said the King; 'bring me last 
year's account, d:nd I will show it you there.' When the King was 
perfectly master of the details of any matter, and saw injustice, he was 
obdurate even to harshness. Then he would be obeyed instantly, in 
order to be sure that he was obeyed. 

" But in important affairs of state the man of will was not to be 
found. Louis XVI. was upon the throne exactly what those weak 
temperaments whom nature has rendered incapable of an opinion are 
in society. In his pusillanimity, he gave his confidence to a minister ; 
and although amidst various counsels he often knew which was the best, 
he never had the resolution to say, ' / prefer the opinion of such an 
one.'' Herein originated the misfortunes of the State." — Soulavie's 
Historical and Political Memoirs of the Reign of Lonis XVI., vol. ii. 



CHAPTER VI 

Severe winter — The Princesse de Lamballe appointed superintendent 
of the household — The Comtesse Jules de Polignac appears at 
Court — M. de Vaudreuil — Due and Duchesse de Duras — 
Fashionable games. 

The winter following the confinement of the Comtesse 
d'Artois was very severe -, the recollections of the pleasure 
which sleighing-parties had given the Queen in her child- 
hood made her wish to introduce similar ones in France. 
This amusement had already been known in that Court, as 
was proved by sleighs being found in the stables which had 
been used by the Dauphin, the father of Louis XVI. Some 
were constructed for the Queen in a more modern style. 
The Princes also ordered several ; and in a few days there 
was a tolerable number of these vehicles. They were 
driven by the princes and noblemen of the Court. The 
noise of the bells and balls with which the harness of the 
horses was furnished, the elegance and whiteness of their 
plumes, the varied forms of the carriages, the gold with 
which they were all ornamented, rendered these parties 
delightful to the eye. The winter was very favourable to 
them, the snow remaining on the ground nearly six weeks ; 
the drives in the park afforded a pleasure shared by the 
spectators.^ No one imagined that any blame could attach 

^ Louis XVI., touched with the wretched condition of the poor of 
Versailles during the winter of 1776, had several cart-loads of wood 



92 PRIVATE LIFE OF ]\^AR7e ANTOINETTE 

to SO innocent an amusement. But the party were tempted 
to extend their drives as far as the Champs Elyse'es ; a few 
sleighs even crossed the boulevards; the ladies being masked, 
the Queen's enemies took the opportunity of saying that she 
had traversed the streets of Paris in a sleigh. 

This became a matter of moment. The public 
discovered in it a predilection for the habits of Vienna ; 
but all that Marie Antoinette did was criticised. 

Sleigh-driving, savouring of the Northern courts, had no 
favour among the Parisians. The Queen was informed of 
this; and although all the sleighs were preserved, and 
several subsequent winters lent themselves to the amuse- 
ment, she would not resume it. 

It was at the time of the sleighing -parties that the 
Queen became intimately acquainted with the Princesse de 
Lamballe, who made her appearance in them wrapped in 
fur, with all the brilliancy and freshness of the age of 
twenty ; the emblem of spring, peeping from under sable 
and ermine. Her situation, moreover, rendered her 
peculiarly interesting ; married, when she was scarcely past 
childhood, to a young prince, who ruined himself by the 
contagious example of the Due d'Orleans, she had had 
nothing to do from the time of her arrival in France but to 
weep. A widow at eighteen, and childless, she lived with 
the Due de Penthievre as an adopted daughter. She had 
the tenderest respect and attachment for that venerable 
Prince ; but the Queen, though doing justice to his virtues, 
saw that the Due de Penthievre's way of life, whether at 
Paris or at his country-seat, could neither afford his young 
daughter-in-law the amusements suited to her time of Hfe, 

distributed among them. Seeing one day a file of those vehicles passing 
by, while several noblemen were preparing to be drawn swiftly over the ice, 
he uttered these memorable words : " Gentlemen, here are my sleighs ! " — 
Note by the Editor. 



THE PRINCESSE DE LAMBALLE 93 

nor insure her in the future an estabUshment such as she 
was deprived of by her widowhood. She determined, 
therefore, to estabhsh her at Versailles ; and for her sake 
revived the office of superintendent, which had been dis- 
continued at Court since the death of Mademoiselle de 
Clermont. It is said that Maria Leczinska had decided 
that this place should continue vacant ; the superintendent 
having so extensive a power in the houses of queens as to 
be frequently a restraint upon their inclinations. Differ- 
ences which soon took place between Marie Antoinette and 
the Princesse de Lamballe respecting the official preroga- 
tives of the latter, proved that the wife of Louis XV. had 
acted judiciously in abolishing the office ; but a kind of 
treaty made between the Queen and the Princess smoothed 
all difficulties. The blame for too strong an assertion of 
claims fell upon a secretary of the superintendent's, who 
had been her adviser ; and everything was so arranged that 
a firm friendship existed between these two Princesses down 
to the disastrous period which terminated their career. 

Notwithstanding the enthusiasm which the splendour, 
grace, and kindness of the Queen generally inspired, secret 
intrigues continued in operation against her. A short 
time after the accession of Louis XVI. to the throne, the 
minister of the King's household was informed that a most 
offensive libel against the Queen was about to appear. 
The lieutenant of police deputed a man named Goupil, a 
police inspector, to trace this libel ; he came soon after to say 
that he had found out the place where the work was being 
printed, and that it was at a country house near Yverdun. 
He had already got possession of two sheets, which 
contained the most atrocious calumnies, conveyed with a 
degree of art which might make them very dangerous to 
the Queen's reputation. Goupil said that he could obtain 
the rest, but that he should want a considerable sum for 



94 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

that purpose. Three thousand louis were given him, and 
very soon afterwards he brought the whole manuscript and 
all that had been printed to the lieutenant of police. He 
received a thousand louis more as a reward for his address 
and zeal ; and a much more important office was about to 
be given him, when another spy, envious of GoupiPs good 
fortune, gave information that Goupil himself was the 
author of the libel ; that, ten years before, he had been put 
into the Bicetre for swindling ; and that Madame Goupil 
had only been three years out of the Salpetriere, where she 
had been placed under another name. This Madame 
Goupil was very pretty and very intriguing ; she had found 
means to form an intimacy with Cardinal de Rohan, whom 
she led, it is said, to hope for a reconciliation with the 
Queen. All this affair was hushed up ; but it shows that it 
was the Queen's fate to be incessantly attacked by the 
meanest and most odious machinations.^ 

Another woman, named Cahouette de Villers, whose 
husband held an office in the Treasury, being very irregular 
in conduct, and of a scheming turn of mind, had a mania 
for appearing in the eyes of her friends at Paris a. person in 
favour at Court, to which she was not entitled either by birth 
or office. During the latter years of the life of Louis XV. 
she had made many dupes, and picked up considerable 
sums by passing herself off as the King's mistress. The 
fear of irritating Madame du Barry was, according to her, 
the only thing which prevented her enjoying that title 
openly: she came regularly to Versailles, kept herself 
concealed in a furnished lodging, and her dupes imagined 
she was secretly summoned to Court. This woman formed 
the scheme of getting admission, if possible, to the presence 

1 Readers wishing for fuller details of Goupil's manoeuvres and their 
detection may consult La Bastille Ddvoilde. The account contained there 
is too long for quotation here. 



A SCHEMER UNMASKED 95 

of the Queen, or at least causing it to be beliveed that she 
had done so. She adopted as her lover Gabriel de Saint 
Charles, intendant of her Majesty's finances ; an office, the 
privileges of which were confined to the right of entering 
the Queen's apartment on Sunday. Madame de Villers 
came every Saturday to Versailles with M. de Saint Charles, 
and lodged in his apartment ; M. Campan was there several 
times ; she painted tolerably well ; she requested him to do 
her the favour to present to the Queen a portrait of her 
Majesty which she had just copied. M. Campan knew the 
woman's character, and refused her. A few days after, he 
saw on her Majesty's couch the portrait which he had 
decHned to present to her; the Queen thought it badly 
painted, and gave orders that it should be carried back to 
the Princesse de Lamballe, who had sent it to her. The ill 
success of the portrait did not deter the manoeuvrer from 
following up her designs ; she easily procured through M. 
de Saint Charles patents and orders signed by the Queen ; 
she then set about imitating her writing, and composed a 
great number of notes and letters, as if written by her 
Majesty, in the tenderest and most familiar style. For 
many months she showed them as great secrets to several 
of her particular friends. Afterwards, she made the Queen 
appear to write to her, to procure various fancy articles. 
Under the pretext of wishing to execute her Majesty's 
commissions accurately, she gave these letters to the trades- 
men to read ; and succeeded in having it said, in many 
houses, that the Queen had a particular regard for her. She 
then enlarged her scheme, and represented the Queen as de- 
siring her to borrow 200,000 francs which she had need of, 
but which she did not wish to ask of the King from his pri- 
vate funds. This letter being shown to M. Beranger,y^r;;w>r- 
general of the finances, took effect; he thought himself 
fortunate in being able to render this assistance to his 



96 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

sovereign, and lost no time in sending the 200,000 francs to 
Madame de Villers. This first step was followed by some 
doubts, which he communicated to people better informed 
than himself of what was passing at Court ; they added to 
his uneasiness ; he then went to M. de Sartine, who 
unravelled the whole plot. The woman was sent to Saint 
Pelagic; and the unfortunate husband was ruined, by 
replacing the sum borrowed, and by paying for the jewels 
fraudulently purchased in the Queen's name ; the forged 
letters were sent to her Majesty ; I compared them in her 
presence with her own handwriting, and the only distinguish- 
able difference was a little more regularity in the letters. 

This trick, discovered and punished with prudence and 
without passion, produced no more sensation out of doors 
than that of the Inspector Goupil. 

A year after the nomination of Madame de Lamballe^ 
to the post of superintendent of the Queen's household, 
balls and quadrilles gave rise to the intimacy of her Majesty 
with the Comtesse Jules de Polignac. This lady really 
interested Marie Antoinette. She was not rich, and 
generally lived upon her estate at Claye. The Queen was 
astonished at not having seen her at Court earlier. The 
confession that her want of fortune had even prevented her 
appearance at the celebration of the marriages of the Princes 
added to the- interest which she had inspired. 

The Queen was full of consideration, and took delight 
in counteracting the injustice of fortune. The Countess 
was induced to come to Court by her husband's sister, 
Madame Diana de Polignac, who had been appointed lady - 
of honour to the Comtesse d'Artois. The Comtesse Jules 
was really fond of a tranquil life ; the impression she made 

^ Marie Th^rese de Savoie-Carignan, bom 1748, murdered September 
1792. Married Louis de Bourbon-Penthievre, Prince de Lamballe (who 
died about 1767), son of the Due de Penthievre. 



THE POLIGNAC FAMILY 97 

at Court affected her but little ; she felt only the attach- 
ment manifested for her by the Queen. I had occasion to 
see her from the commencement of her favour at Court ; 
she often passed whole hours with me, while waiting for the 
Queen. She conversed with me freely and ingenuously 
about the honour, and at the same time the danger, she saw 
in the kindness of which she was the object. The Queen 
sought for the sweets of friendship ; but can this gratifica- 
tion, so rare in any rank, exist between a Queen and a 
subject — when they are surrounded, moreover, by snares 
laid by the artifice of courtiers? This pardonable error 
was fatal to the happiness of Marie Antoinette. 

The retiring character of the Comtesse Jules, afterwards 
Duchesse de Polignac, cannot be spoken of too favourably ; 
but if her heart was incapable of forming ambitious projects, 
her family and friends in her fortune beheld their own, and 
endeavoured to secure the favour of the Queen. ^ 

The Comtesse Diana, sister of M. de Polignac, and the 
Baron de Besenval and M. de Vaudreuil, particular friends 
of the Polignac family, made use of means, the success of 
which was infallible. One of my friends (Comte de Mous- 
tier), who was in their secret, came to tell me that Madame 
de Polignac was about to quit Versailles suddenly ; that 
she would take leave of the Queen only in writing; that 
the Comtesse Diana and M. de Vaudreuil had dictated 
her letter, and the whole affair was arranged for the purpose 
of stimulating the attachment of Marie Antoinette. The 
next day, when I went up to the palace, I found the Queen 
with a letter in her hand, which she was reading with much 
emotion ; it was the letter from the Comtesse Jules ; the 

1 The Comtesse, afterwards Duchesse de Polignac, nie Polastron, 
married the Comte (in 1780 the Due) Jules de Polignac, the father of the 
Prince de Polignac of Napoleon's and of Charles X.'s time. She emigrated 
in 1789, and died in Vienna in 1793. 

7 



98 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Queen showed it to me. The Countess expressed in it 
her grief at leaving a Princess who had loaded her with 
kindness. The narrowness of her fortune compelled her to 
do so ; but she was much more strongly impelled by the 
fear that the Queen's friendship, after having raised up 
dangerous enemies against her, might abandon her to their 
hatred, and to the regret of having lost the august favour of 
which she was the object. 

This step produced the full effect that had been ex- 
pected from it. A young and sensitive Queen cannot 
long bear the idea of contradiction. She busied herself in 
settling the Comtesse Jules near her, by making such a 
provision for her as should place her beyond anxiety. Her 
character suited the Queen ; she had merely natural talents, 
no pedantry, no affectation of knowledge. She was of 
middle size ; her complexion very fair, her eyebrows and 
hair dark brown, her teeth superb, her smile enchanting, 
and her whole person graceful. She was seen almost 
always in a demi-toilette, remarkable only for neatness and 
good taste. I do not think I ever once saw diamonds 
about her, even at the climax of her fortune, when she had 
the rank of Duchess at Court j I have always believed 
that her sincere attachment for the Queen, as much as her 
love of simplicity, induced her to avoid everything that 
might cause -her to be thought a wealthy favourite. She 
had not one of the failings which usually accompany that 
position. She loved the persons who shared the Queen's 
affections, and was entirely free from jealousy. Marie 
Antoinette flattered herself that the Comtesse Jules and the 
Princesse de Lamballe would be her especial friends, and 
that she should possess a society formed according to her 
own taste. " I will receive them in my closet, or at 
Trianon," said she : " I will enjoy the comforts of private 
life, which exist not for us, unless we have the good sense 



COURT JEALOUSIES 99 

to secure them for ourselves." The happiness the Queen 
thought to secure was destined to turn to vexation. All 
those courtiers who were not admitted to this intimacy 
became so many jealous and vindictive enemies. 

It was necessary to make a suitable provision for the 
Countess. The place of first equerry, in reversion after the 
Comte de Tess6, given to Comte Jules unknown to the 
titular holder, displeased the family of Noailles. This 
family had just sustained another mortification; the ap- 
pointment of the Princesse de Lamballe having in some 
degree rendered necessary the resignation of the Comtesse 
de Noailles, whose husband was thereupon made a marshal 
of France. The Princesse de Lamballe, although she did 
not quarrel with the Queen, was alarmed at the establish- 
ment of the Comtesse Jules at Court, and did not form, 
as her Majesty had hoped, a part of that intimate society 
which was in turn composed of Mesdames Jules and Diana 
de Polignac, d'Andlau, and de Chalon ; and Messieurs de 
Guignes, de Coigny, d'Adhemar, de Besenval, lieutenant- 
colonel of the Swiss, de Polignac, de Vaudreuil, and de 
Guiche ; the Prince de Ligne and the Duke of Dorset, the 
English ambassador, were also admitted. 

It was a long time before the Comtesse Jules maintained 
any great state at Court. The Queen contented herself 
with giving her very fine apartments at the top of the 
marble staircase. The salary of first equerry, the trifling 
emoluments derived from M. de Polignac's regiment, added 
to their slender patrimony, and perhaps some small pension, 
at that time formed the whole fortune of the favourite. I 
never saw the Queen make her a present of value ; I was 
even astonished one day at hearing her Majesty mention, 
with pleasure, that the Countess had gained ten thousand 
francs in the lottery : she was in great want of it, added 
the Queen. 



loo PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Thus the Polignacs were not settled at Court in any 
degree of splendour which could justify complaints from 
others, and the substantial favours bestowed upon that 
family were less envied than the intimacy between them 
and their proteges and the Queen. Those who had no 
hope of entering the circle of the Comtesse Jules were 
made jealous by the opportunities of advancement it 
afforded. 

However, at the time I speak of, the society around the 
Comtesse Jules was fully engaged in gratifying the young 
Queen. Of this the Marquis de Vaudreuil was a con- 
spicuous member ; he was a brilliant man, the friend and 
protector of men of letters and celebrated artists.^ 

1 M. de Vaudreuil himselt pursued several of the fine arts. His voice 
was very pleasing, and he vi^as a good musician. These accomplishments 
made him sought after, from his earliest entrance into society. The first 
time he visited Madame la Mar^chale de Luxembourg, that lady said to him 
after supper, ' ' I am told, sir, that you sing very well. I should be 
delighted to hear you. But if you do oblige me so far, pray do not sing 
any fine piece ; no cantata, but some street ballad — ^just a mere street song. 
I like a natural style — something lively — something cheerful," M. de 
Vaudreuil begged leave to sing a street ballad then much in vogue. He 
did not know that Madame la Mar^chale de Luxembourg was, before her 
widowhood, Comtesse de Bouflflers, He sang out with a full and sonorous 
voice the first line of the couplet, beginning, ' ' When Bouffiers first was 
seen at Court." The company immediately began coughing and sneezing, 
M. de Vaudreuil went on : " Venus' self shone less beauteous than she 
did." The noise and confusion increased. But after the third line : " To 
please her all eagerly sought, " M. de Vaudreml, perceiving that all eyes 
were fixed upon him, paused. "Pray go on, sir," said Madame la 
Mar6chale, singing the last line herself : " And too well in his turn each 
succeeded." M. de Besenval's remarks respecting Madame de Luxem- 
bourg render the anecdote not improbable. But perhaps, in such a 
delicate dilemma, she may be considered as having given a proof of 
presence of mind rather than of impudence. 

According to the version of the Marquis de Gouffier, who was present 
on this occasion, the conversation turned on Time's* ravages on beauty, 
when M. de Vaudreuil said, turning towards Madame de Luxembourg, 
''As to you, Madame, he has spared you — we still see that beauty 



CON VERS A TION A T COURT 



The Baron de Besenval added to the bluntness of the 
Swiss all the adroitness of a French courtier. His fifty 
years and gray hairs made him enjoy among women the 
confidence inspired by mature age, although he had not 
given up the thought of love affairs. He talked of his 
native mountains with enthusiasm. He would at any time 
sing the " ranz des vaches " with tears in his eyes, and was 
the best story-teller in the Comtesse Jules's circle. The 
last new song or bon-mot and the gossip of the day were 
the sole topics of conversation in the Queen's parties. 
Wit was banished from them. The Comtesse Diana, more 
inclined to literary pursuits than her sister-in-law, one day 
recommended her to read the Iliad and Odyssey. The 
latter replied, laughing, that she was perfectly acquainted 
with the Greek poet, and said to prove it : 

" Homere etait aveugle et jouait du hautbois.''^ 
Homer was blind and played on the hautboy. 

The Queen found this sort of humour very much to her 
taste, and said that no pedant should ever be her friend. 
Before the Queen fixed her assemblies at Madame de 

which turned all the heads at Court, and has been celebrated by our best 
poets." " Yes," said the old lady gaily, " I remember when I first came 
out, there were a few songs written in my praise ; there was this, for 
instance," and she began singing : 

" When Boufflers first was seen at Court, 
Venus' self shone less beauteous than she did. 
To please her all eagerly sought " 

Here she stopped, and did not give the last line : 

" And too well in his turn each succeeded." 

" Go on, Madame la Mar^chale, " said De Vaudreuil. " Ah ! " said she, 
smiHng, "all that was so long ago that I remember no more of it." — 
Note by the Editor. 

^ This lively repartee of the Duchesse de Polignac is a droll imitation 
of a line in the Mercure Galant. In the quarrel scene one of the lawyers 
says to his brother quill : '* Ton-phre dtait aveugle et jouait du hautbois." 



102 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Polignac's, she occasionally passed the evening at the house 
of the Due and Duchesse de Duras, where a brilliant party 
of young persons met together. They introduced a taste 
for trifling games, such as question and answer, gtterre 
panpan, blindman's buff, and especially a game called 
descampativos. The people of Paris, always criticising, but 
always imitating the customs of the Court, were infected 
with the mania for these childish sports. Madame de 
Genlis, sketching the follies of the day in one of her plays, 
speaks of these famous descainpativos ; and also of the rage 
for making a friend, called the inseparable, until a whim or 
the slightest difference might occasion a total rupture. 



CHAPTER VII 

The Due de Choiseul returns to Court — The Queen obtains a pension 
of 1 200 francs for Chamfort — She invites Ghick to France and 
patronises music — Encouragement given to the art of printing — 
Turgot — M. de Saint Germain — Amusements at Court — Particu- 
lars of the household — Masked balls at the opera — The Queen 
goes there in a fiacre ; slanderous reports — The heron plume — 
The Due de Lauzun — the Queen's attachment to the Princesse de 
Lamballe and the Duchess de Polignac — Anecdote of the Abbe 
de Vermond. 

The Due de Choiseul had reappeared at Court on the 
ceremony of the King's coronation for the first time after 
his disgrace under Louis XV. in 1770. The state of 
pubHc feeHng on the subject gave his friends hope of seeing 
him again in administration, or in the Council of State ; but 
the opposite party was too firmly seated at Versailles, and 
the young Queen's influence was outweighed, in the mind 
of the King, by long-standing prejudices; she therefore 
gave up for ever her attempt to reinstate the Duke. Thus 
this Princess, who has been described as so ambitious, and 
so strenuously supporting the interest of the House of 
Austria, failed twice in the only scheme which could for- 
ward the views constantly attributed to her; and spent 
the whole of her reign surrounded by enemies of herself 
and her house. 

Marie Antoinette took little pains to promote literature 
and the fine arts. She had been annoyed in consequence 



I04 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

of having ordered a performance of the Connetable de Bour- 
bon, on the celebration of the marriage of Madame Clotilde 
with the Prince of Piedmont. The Court and the people 
of Paris censured as indecorous the naming characters in 
the piece after the reigning family, and that with which the 
new alliance was formed.^ The reading of this piece by 
the Comte de Guibert in the Queen's closet had produced 
in her Majesty's circle that sort of enthusiasm which obscures 
the judgment. She promised herself she would have no 
more readings. Yet, at the request of M. de Cubieres, the 
King's equerry, the Queen agreed to hear the reading of a 
comedy written by his brother. She collected her intimate 
circle, Messieurs de Coigny, de Vaudreuil, de Besenval, 
Mesdaraes de Polignac, de Chalon, etc., and to increase 
the number of judges, she admitted the two Parnys,^ the 
Chevalier de Bertin, my father-in-law, and myself Mole 
read for the author. I never could satisfy myself by what 
magic the skilful reader gained our unanimous approbation 
of a ridiculous work. Surely the delightful voice of Mole, 
by awakening our recollection of the dramatic beauties of 
the French stage, prevented the wretched lines of Dorat 
Cubieres from striking on our ears. I can assert that the 
exclamation Charming! charmmg ! repeatedly interrupted 
the reader. The piece was admitted for performance at 
Fontainebleau j and for the first time the King had the 
curtain dropped before the end of the play. It was called 
the Drauiomane or Dramaturge. All the characters died of 
eating poison in a pie. The Queen, highly disconcerted 

^ The Court could hardly approve a composition in which the Constable 
above all things desires " the rare pleasure of humbling a king." — Note by 
the Editor, 

^ The Chevalier de Parny w^as already known by his erotic poems, and 
the Chevalier de Bertin by some clever verses. — MoM was an actor who 
was, during thirty years, the delight of the Th^itre Francais. He preceded 
Fleury, and took the same line of character. — Madame Cavipan. 



THE QUEEN S, SUPPORT OF GLUCK 105 

at having recommended this absurd production, announced 
that she would never hear another reading ; and this time 
she kept her word. 

The tragedy of Miistapha and Zeangir^ by M. de 
Chamfort, was highly successful at the Court theatre at 
Fontainebleau. The Queen procured the author a pension 
of 1200 francs, but his play failed on being performed at 
Paris. 

The spirit of opposition which prevailed in that city 
delighted in reversing the verdicts of the Court. The 
Queen determined never again to give any marked counte- 
nance to new dramatic works. She reserved her patronage 
for musical composers, and in a few years their art arrived 
at a perfection it had never before attained in France. 

It was solely to gratify the Queen that the manager of 
the opera brought the first company of comic actors to 
Paris. Gluck, Piccini, and Sacchini were attracted there 
in succession. These eminent composers were treated 
with great distinction at Court. Immediately on his arrival 
in France, Gluck was admitted to the Queen's toilette, and 
she talked to him all the time he remained with her. She 
asked him one day whether he had nearly brought his 
grand opera of Armide to a conclusion, and whether it 
pleased him. Gluck replied very coolly, in his German 
accent, "Madame, it will soon be finished, and really it 
will be superb''' , There was a great outcry against the 
confidence with which the composer had spoken of one of 
his own productions.^ The Queen defended him warmly ; 

^ Gluck often had to deal with self-sufficiency equal to his own. He 
was very reluctant to introduce long ballets into Iphigenia. Vestris deeply 
regretted that the opera was not terminated by a piece they called a 
chaconne, in which he displayed all his power. He complained to Gluck 
about it. Gluck, who treated his art with all the dignity it merits, replied 
that in so interesting a subject dancing would be misplaced. Being 
pressed another time by Vestris on the same subject, " A chaconne! A 



io6 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

she insisted that he could not be ignorant of the merit of 
his works ; that he well knew they were generally admired, 
and that no doubt he was afraid lest a modesty, merely 
dictated by politeness, should look like affectation in him. 

The Queen did not confine her admiration to the lofty 
style of the French and Italian operas ; she greatly valued 
Gretry's music, so well adapted to the spirit and feeling of 
the words. A great deal of the poetry set to music by 
Gretry is by Marmontel. The day after the first perform- 
ance of Zemira and Azor, Marmontel and Gretry were 
presented to the Queen as she was passing through the^- 
gallery of Fontainebleau to go to mass. The Queen con- 
gratulated Gretry on the success of the new opera, and told 
him that she had dreamed of the enchanting effect of the 
trio by Zemira's father and sisters behind the magic mirror. 
Gretry, in a transport of joy, took Marmontel in his arms, 
"Ah ! my friend," cried he, "excellent music may be made 
of this." "And execrable words," coolly observed Mar- 
montel, to whom her Majesty had not addressed a single 
compliment. 

The most indifferent artists were permitted to. have the 
honour of painting the Queen. A full-length portrait 
representing her in all the pomp of royalty was exhibited in 
the gallery of Versailles. This picture, which was intended 
for the Court -of Vienna, was executed by a man who does 
not deserve even to be named, and disgusted all people of 
taste. It seemed as if this art had, in France, retrograded 
several centuries. 

The Queen had not that enlightened judgment, or even 
that mere taste, which enables Princes to foster and protect 

chaconne!" roared out the enraged musician; "we must describe the 
Greeks; and had the Greeks chaconnes?" — " They had not?" returned 
the astonished dancer; "why then, so much the worse for them !" — • 
Note by the Editor. 



ROYALTY AND THE PRINTERS 107 

great talents. She confessed frankly that she saw no merit 
in any portrait beyond the likeness. When she went to 
the Louvre, she would run hastily over all the little " genre " 
pictures, and come out, as she acknowledged, without 
having once raised her eyes to the grand compositions. 

There is no good portrait of the Queen, save that by 
Werthmiiller, chief painter to the King of Sweden, which 
was sent to Stockholm : and that by Madame le Brun, 
which was saved from the revolutionary fury by the com- 
missioners for the care of the furniture at Versailles.-*- The 
composition of the latter picture resembles that of Henrietta 
of France, the wife of the unfortunate Charles I., painted 
by Vandyke. Like Marie Antoinette, she is seated, sur- 
rounded by her children, and that resemblance adds to the 
melancholy interest raised by this beautiful production. 

While admitting that the Queen gave no direct encour- 
agement to any art but that of music, I should be wrong to 
pass over in silence the patronage conferred by her and the 
Princes, brothers of the King, on the art of printing. ^ 

To Marie Antoinette we are indebted for a splendid 
quarto edition of the works of Metastasio ; to Monsieur, the 
King's brother, for a quarto Tasso, embellished with 
engravings after Cochin ; and to the Comte d'Artois for a 

1 A sketch of very great interest made when the Queen was in the 
Temple and discovered many years afterwards there, recently reproduced 
in the memoirs of the Marquise de Tourzel (Paris, Plon), is the last 
authentic portrait of the unhappy Queen. See also the catalogue of 
portraits made by Lord Ronald Gower. 

^ In 1790 the King gave a proof of his particular good will to the 
bookselling trade. A company consisting of the first Parisian booksellers, 
being on the eve of stopping payment, succeeded in laying before the 
King a statement of their distressed situation. The monarch was affected 
by it ; he took from the civil Hst the sum of which the society stood in 
immediate need, and became security for the repayment of the remainder 
of the 1,200,000 hvres, which they wanted to borrow, and for the repay- 
ment of which he fixed no particular time. 



io8 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

small collectio]:! of select works, which is considered one of 
the chef d'oeitvres of the press of the celebrated Didot. 

In 1775, on the death of the Marechal du Muy, the 
ascendency obtained by the sect of innovators occasioned 
M. de Saint Germain to be recalled to Court and made 
Minister at War. His first care was the destruction of the 
King's military household establishment, an imposing and 
effectual rampart round the sovereign power. 

When Chanceller Maupeou obtained from Louis XV. 
the destruction of the ParHament and the exile of all the 
ancient magistrates, the Mousquetaires were charged with 
the execution of the commission for this purpose j and at 
the stroke of midnight, the presidents and members were 
all arrested, each by two Mousquetaires. In the spring of 
1775 ^ popular insurrection had taken place in consequence 
of the high price of bread. M. Turgot's new regulation, 
which permitted unlimited trade in corn, was either its cause 
or the pretext for it;^ and the King's household troops 
again rendered the greatest services to public tranquillity. 

I have never been able to discover the true cause of the 
support given to M. de Saint Germain's policy by the Queen, 
unless in the marked favour shown to the captains and 
officers of the Body Guards, who by this reduction became 
the only soldiers of their rank entrusted with the safety of 
the sovereign; or else in the Queen's strong prejudice 
against the Due d'Aiguillon, then commander of the light 
horse. M. de Saint Germain, however, retained fifty ge7is 
{Tarmes and fifty light horse to form a royal escort on State 
occasions; but in 1787 the King reduced both these 

^ Liberty and economy were M. Turgot's two principles. At Court 
he insisted chiefly on the application of the last. His numerous retrench- 
ments offended the nobles and clergy. A female relative of the minister 
once asked a bishop whether it was not allowable to keep Easter and the 
Jubilee at the same time. " Well, madam," replied the prelate, " we Hve 
in economical times — I think it can be done." — Note by the Editor. 



FETE GIVEN BY THE COMTE DE PROVENCE 109 

military bodies. The Queen then said with satisfaction 
that at last she should see no more red coats in the gallery 
of Versailles. 

From 1775 to 1781 were the gayest years of the 
Queen's life. In the Httle journeys to Choisy, performances 
frequently took place at the theatre twice in one day : 
grand opera and French or Italian comedy at the usual 
hour ; and at eleven at night they returned to the theatre 
for parodies in which the best actors of the opera presented 
themselves in whimsical parts and costumes. The cele- 
brated dancer Guimard always took the leading characters 
in the latter performance ; she danced better than she acted ; 
her extreme leanness, and her weak hoarse voice^ added to 
the burlesque in the parodied characters of Ernelinde and 
Iphigenie. 

The most magnificent /^/^ ever given to the Queen was 
one prepared for her by Monsieur, the King's brother, at 
Brunoy. That Prince did me the honour to admit me, 
and I followed her Majesty into the gardens, where she 
found in the first copse knights in full armour asleep at the 
foot of trees, on which hung their spears and shields. The 
absence of the beauties who had incited the nephews of 
Charlemagne and the gallants of that period to lofty deeds 
was supposed to occasion this lethargic slumber. But when 
the Queen appeared at the entrance of the copse they were 
on foot in an instant, and melodious voices announced their 
eagerness to display their valour. They then hastened into 
a vast arena, magnificently decorated in the exact style of 
the ancient tournaments. Fifty dancers dressed as pages 
presented to the knights twenty-five superb black horses, 
and twenty-five of a dazzling whiteness, all most richly 
caparisoned. The party led by Augustus Vestris wore the 
Queen's colours. Picq, ballet-master at the Russian Court, 
commanded the opposing band. There was running at the 



no PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

negro's head, tilting, and, lastly, combats a outrance^ per- 
fectly well imitated. Although the spectators were aware 
that the Queen's colours could not but be victorious, they 
did not the less enjoy the apparent uncertainty. 

Nearly all the agreeable women of Paris were ranged 
upon the steps which surrounded the area of the tourney. 
The Queen, surrounded by the royal family and the whole 
Court, was placed beneath an elevated canopy. A play, 
followed by a ballet -pantomime and a ball, terminated 
the fete. Fireworks and illuminations were not spared. 
Finally, from a prodigiously high scaffold, placed on a 
rising ground, the words Vive Louis! Vive Ma?'ie Antoinette/ 
were shown in the air in the midst of a very dark but calm 
night. 

Pleasure was the sole pursuit of every one of this young 
family, with the exception of the King. Their love of it 
was perpetually encouraged by a crowd of those officious 
people who, by anticipating the desires and even the pas- 
sions of princes, find means of showing their zeal and hope 
to gain or maintain favour for themselves. 

Who would have dared to check the amusements of a 
Queen, young, lively, and handsome? A mother or a 
husband alone would have had the right to do it ; and the 
Kir^ threw no impediment in the way of Marie Antoinette's 
inclinations. 'His long indifference had been followed by 
admiration and love. He was a slave to all the wishes of 
the Queen, who, delighted with the happy change in the 
heart and habits of the King, did not sufficiently conceal 
the ascendency she was gaining over him. 

The King went to bed every night at eleven precisely ; 
he was very methodical, and nothing was allowed to inter- 
fere with his rules. The noise which the Queen unavoid- 
ably made when she returned very late from the evenings 
which she spent with the Princesse de Guernenee or the 



THE KING AT A MASKED BALL 



Due de Duras, at last annoyed the King, and it was amic- 
ably agreed that the Queen should apprise him when she 
intended to sit up late. He then began to sleep in his 
own apartment, which had never before happened from the 
time of their marriage. 

During the winter the Queen attended the opera balls 
with a single lady of the palace, and always found there 
Monsieur and the Comte d'Artois. Her people concealed 
their liveries under gray cloth greatcoats. She never 
thought she was recognised, while all the time she was 
known to the whole assembly, from the first moment she 
entered the theatre; they pretended, however, not to 
recognise her, and some masquerade manoeuvre was always 
adopted to give her the pleasure of fancying herselt 
incognito. 

Louis XVI. determined once to accompany the Queen 
to a masked ball ; it was agreed that the King should hold 
not only the grand but the petit coucher, as if actually going 
to bed. The Queen went to his apartment through the 
inner corridors of the palace, followed by one of her women 
with a black domino ; she assisted him to put it on, and 
they went alone to the chapel court, where a carriage waited 
for them, with the captain of the guard of the quarter, and 
a lady of the palace. The King was but little amused, 
spoke only to two or three persons, who knew him 
immediately, and found nothing to admire at the masquerade 
but Punches and Harlequins, which served as a joke against 
him for the royal family, who often amused themselves with 
laughing at him about it. 

An event, simple in itself, brought dire suspicion upon 
the Queen. She was going out one evening with the 
Duchesse de Luynes, lady of the palace, when her carriage 
broke down at the entrance into Paris ; she was obliged to 
alight ; the Duchess led her into a shop, while a footman 



112 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

called a fiacre. As they were masked, if they had but 
known how to keep silence, the event would never have 
been known; but to ride in a fiacre is so unusual an 
adventure for a Queen that she had hardly entered the 
opera-house when she could not help saying to some per- 
sons whom she met there ; ' That I should be in a fiacre ! 
Is it not droll?" 

From that moment all Paris was informed of the adven- 
ture oi\hs. fiacre. It was said that everything connected with 
it was mysterious \ that the Queen had kept an assignation 
in a private house with the Due de Coigny. He was indeed 
very well received at Court, but equally so by the King 
and Queen. These accusations of gallantry once set afloat, 
there were no longer any bounds to the calumnies circulated 
at Paris. If, during the chase or at cards, the Queen spoke 
to Lord Edward Dillon, De Lambertye, or others, they 
were so many favoured lovers. The people of Paris did 
not know that none of those young persons were admitted 
into the Queen's private circle of friends ; the Queen went 
about Paris in disguise, and had made use of a fiacre ; and 
a single instance of levity gives room for the suspicion of 
others. 

Conscious of innocence, and well knowing that all about 
her must do justice to her private life, the Queen spoke of 
these report? with contempt, contenting herself with the 
supposition that some folly in the young men mentioned 
had given rise to them. She therefore left off" speaking to 
them or even looking at them. Their vanity took alarm 
at thisj and revenge induced them either to say, or to leave 
others to think, that they were unfortunate enough to please 
no longer. Other young coxcombs, placing themselves 
near the private box which the Queen occupied incognito 
when she attended the public theatre at Versailles, had the 
presumption to imagine that they were noticed by her; 



THE STORY OF THE HERON's PLUME 113 

and I have known such notions entertained merely on 
account of the Queen's requesting one of those gentlemen 
to inquire behind the scenes whether it would be long 
before the commencement of the second piece. 

The list of persons received into the Queen's closet 
which I gave in the preceding chapter was placed in the 
hands of the ushers of the chamber by the Princesse de 
Lamballe; and the persons there enumerated could only 
present themselves to enjoy the distinction on those days 
when the Queen chose to be with her intimates in a private 
manner; and this was only when she was slightly indis- 
posed. People of the first rank at Court sometimes 
requested special audiences of her; the Queen then 
received them in a room within that called the closet of 
the women on duty, and these women announced them in 
her Majesty's apartment. 

The Due de Lauzun"^ had a good deal of wit, and 
chivalrous manners. The Queen was accustomed to see 
him at the King's suppers, and at the house of the Princesse 
de Guemenee, and always showed him attention. One 
day he made his appearance at Madame de Guemenee's 
in uniform, and with the most magnificent plume of white 
heron's feathers that it was possible to behold. The Queen 
admired the plume, and he offered it to her through the 
Princesse de Guemenee. As he had worn it the Queen 
had not imagined that he could think of giving it to her; 
much embarrassed with the present which she had, as it 
were, drawn upon herself, she did not like to refuse it, nor 
did she know whether she ought to make one in return ; 
afraid, if she did give anything, of giving either too much 
or too little, she contented herself with once letting M. de 

1 Armand Louis, Due de Lauzun (1747-1793), afterwards (1788) Due 
de Biron ; commanded the army of the Rhine 1792, and against the Ven- 
deans in 1793 ^-S General Biron, but was guillotined in 1793. 



114 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Lauzun see her adorned with the plume. In his secret 
Memoirs the Duke attaches an importance to his present, 
which proves him utterly unworthy of an honour accorded 
only to his name and rank.^ 

A short time afterwards he sohcited an audience; the 
Queen granted it, as she would have done to any other 
courtier of equal rank. I was in the room adjoining that 
in which he was received ; a few minutes after his arrival 
the Queen re-opened the door, and said aloud, and in an 
angry tone of voice, "Go, sir." M. de Lauzun bowed low, 
and withdrew. The Queen was much agitated. She said 
to me: "That man shall never again come within my 
doors." A few years before the Revolution of 1789 the 
Marechal de Biron died. The Due de Lauzun, heir to 
his name, aspired to the important post of colonel of the 

1 We may perhaps compare the Due de Lauzun' s version of this in- 
cident (not, however, to be found in the edition of his Memoirs published 
since those of Madame Cam pan were compiled) with Madame Campan's 
narrative. "Madame de Gu^m^n^e," he says, "came up to me and 
asked in an undertone, laughing, ' Are you very much attached to a cer- 
tain white heron plume which was in your helmet when you took leave ? 
The Queen is dying for it ; will you refuse it her ? ' I replied that I should 
not dare to offer it to her, but that I should be most happy if she would 
condescend to receive it from Madame de Gudm^n^e. I sent to Paris for 
it, and Madame de Gu6m6n6e gave it to the Queen the next evening. 
She wore it on the following day ; and at dinner she asked me what I 
thought of her head-dress. I replied that I liked it very much. ' ' I never,' 
said she, with infinite affability, ' saw myself so becomingly dressed before,' 
It certainly would have been better if she had not said anything about it, 
for the Due de Coigny took notice both of the feather and the phrase. 
He asked whence the plume came. The Queen said, with some em- 
barrassment, that I had brought it to Madame de Gu^m^n^e from my^ 
travels, and that she had given it to her. The Due de Coigny told 
Madame de Gu6m6n^e in the evening, with much asperity, that nothing 
could be more indecorous than the footing I was on with the Queen ; that 
to pay such attention publicly was a thing unheard of ; and that it was 
incredible that she should look as if she approved of it. What he said 
was not well received, and he began to contrive means to get me out of 
the way." — Note by the Editor, 



CALUMNIES A GAINST THE Q UEEN 1 1 5 

regiment of French guards. The Queen, however, pro- 
cured it for the Due du Chatelet. The Due de Biron 
espoused the cause of the Due d'Orleans, and became one 
of the most violent enemies of Marie Antoinette. 

It is with reluctance that I enter minutely on a defence 
of the Queen against two infamous accusations with which 
libellers have dared to swell their envenomed volumes. 
I mean the unworthy suspicions of too strong an attach- 
ment for the Comte d'Artois, and of the motives for the 
tender friendship which subsisted between the Queen, the 
Princesse de Lamballe, and the Duchesse de Polignac. I 
do not believe that the Comte d'Artois was, during his own 
youth and that of the Queen, so much smitten as has been 
said with the loveliness of his sister-in-law; I can afifirm 
that I always saw that Prince maintain the most respectful 
demeanour towards the Queen ; that she always spoke of 
his good-nature and cheerfulness with that freedom which 
attends only the purest sentiments ; and that none of those 
about the Queen ever saw in the affection she manifested 
towards the Comte d'Artois more than that of a kind and 
tender sister for her youngest brother. As to the intimate 
connection between Marie Antoinette and the ladies I have 
named, it never had, nor could have, any other motive than 
the very innocent wish to secure herself two friends in the 
midst of a numerous Court ; and notwithstanding this 
intimacy, that tone of respect observed by persons of the 
most exalted rank towards majesty never ceased to be 
maintained. 

The Queen, much occupied with the society of Madame 
de Polignac, and an unbroken series of amusements, found 
less time for the Abbe de Vermond ; he therefore resolved 
to retire from Court. The world did him the honour to 
believe that he had hazarded remonstrances upon his 
august pupil's frivolous employment of her time, and that 



ii6 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

he considered himself, both as an ecclesiastic and as in- 
structor, now out of place at Court. But the world was 
deceived : his dissatisfaction arose purely from the favour 
shown to the Comtesse Jules. After a fortnight's absence 
we saw him at Versailles again, resuming his usual functions. 

The Queen could express herself with winning gracious- 
ness to persons who merited her praise. When M. 
Loustonneau was appointed to the reversion of the post of 
first surgeon to the King, he came to make his acknowledg- 
ments. He was much beloved by the poor, to whom he 
had chiefly devoted his talents, spending nearly thirty 
thousand francs a year on indigent sufferers. The Queen 
replied to his thanks by saying : " You are satisfied, sir ; 
but I am far from being so with the inhabitants of Versailles. 
On the news of your appointment the town should have 
been illuminated." — " How so, Madame ? " asked the 
astonished surgeon, who was excessively modest. " Why," 
replied the Queen, " if the poor whom you have succoured 
for the past twenty years had each placed a single candle 
in their windows it would have been the most beautiful 
illumination ever witnessed." 

The Queen did not limit her kindness to friendly words. 
There was frequently seen in the apartments of Versailles a 
veteran captain of the grenadiers of France, called the 
Chevalier d'Orville, who for four years had been soliciting 
from the Minister of War the post of major, or of King's 
lieutenant. He was known to be very poor ; but he 
supported his lot without complaining of this vexatious 
delay in rewarding his honourable services. He regularly 
attended the Marechal de Segur, at the hour appointed for 
receiving the numerous solicitations in his department. 
One day the Marechal said to him : " You are still at 
Versailles, M. d'Orville?" — "Sir," he replied, "you may 
observe that by this board of the flooring where I regularly 



FAITHFUL SER VICE RE WARDED 1 1 7 

place myself; it is already worn down several lines by the 
weight of my body." The Queen frequently stood at the 
window of her bed-chamber to observe with her glass the 
people walking in the park. Sometimes she inquired the 
names of those who were unknown to her. One day she 
saw the Chevalier d'Orville passing, and asked me the name 
of that knight of Saint Louis, whom she had seen every- 
where for a long time past. I knew who he^as, and related 
his history. " That must be put an end to," said the Queen, 
with some vivacity. " Such an example of indifference is 
calculated to discourage our soldiers." Next day, in cross- 
ing the gallery to go to mass, the Queen perceived the 
Chevalier d'Orville ; she went directly towards him. The 
poor man fell back in the recess of a window, looking to 
the right and left to discover the person whom the Queen 
was seeking, when she thus addressed him : " M. d'Orville, 
you have been several years at Versailles, soliciting a 
majority or a King's lieutenancy. You must have very 
powerless patrons." — "I have none, Madame," replied the 
Chevalier, in great confusion. "Well! I will take you 
under my protection. To-morrow at the same hour be here 
with a petition, and a memorial of your services." A fort- 
night after M. d'Orville was appointed King's lieutenant, 
either at La Rochelle or at Rochefort.^ 

^ Louis XVI. vied with his Queen in benevolent actions of this kind. 
An old ofificer had in vain solicited a pension during the administration of 
the Due de Choiseul. He returned to the charge in the times of the 
Marquis de Montesnard and the Due d'Aiguillon. He urged his claims to 
Comte du Muy, who made a note of them. Tired of so many fruitless 
efforts, he at last appeared at the King's supper, and having placed him- 
self so as to be seen and heard, cried out at a moment when silence pre- 
vailed, ' ' Sire." The people near him said, ' ' What are you about ? This 
is not the way to speak to the King." — " I fear nothing," said he, and 
raising his voice, repeated, " Sire.'' The King, much surprised, looked at 
him and said, "What do you want, sir. " — "Sire," answered he, "I am 
seventy years of age ; I have served your Majesty more than fifty years, 



ii8 . PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

and I am dying for want." — "Have you a memorial?" replied the King. 
Yes, Sire, I have." — "Give it to me ; " and his Majesty took it v^^ithout say- 
ing anything more. Next morning he was sent for by the King, who said, 
" Sir, I grant you an annuity of 1500 livres out of my privy purse, and you 
may go and receive the first year's payment, which is now due " {Secret 
Correspondence of the Court : Reign of Louis XVI.) The King preferred 
to spend money in charity rather than in luxury or magnificence. Once 
during his absence, M. d'Angivillers caused an unused room in the King's 
apartment to be repaired at a cost of 30,000 francs. On his return 
the king made Versailles resound with complaints against M. d'Angivillers : 
" With that sum I could have made thirty famihes happy," he said. — Note 
by the Editor. 



CHAPTER VIII 

Joseph II. 's visit to France- — His reception at the opera — Fete given to 
him by the Queen at Trianon — The Queen enceinte — Voltaire's 
return to Paris — Duel between the Comte d'Artois and the Due 
de Bourbon — Return of the Chevalier d'Eon to France— Particulars 
relative to his missions, and the causes of his disguise — :Night 
promenades upon the terrace of Trianon — Couplets against the 
Queen — Indignation of Louis XVI. — Birth of Madame. 

From the time of Louis XVI.'s accession to the throne, the 
Queen had been expecting a visit from her brother, the 
Emperor Joseph II. That Prince was the constant theme 
of her discourse. She boasted of his intelHgence, his love 
of occupation, his miUtary knowledge, and the perfect 
simplicity of his manners. Those about her Majesty 
ardently wished to see at Versailles a Prince so worthy of 
his rank. At length the coming of Joseph II., under the 
title of Count Falkenstein, was announced, and the very 
day on which he would be at Versailles was mentioned. 
The first embraces between the Queen and her august 
brother took place in the presence of all the Queen's house- 
hold. The sight of their emotion was extremely affecting. 
The Emperor was at first generally admired in France ; 
learned men, well-informed officers, and celebrated artists 
appreciated the extent of his information. He made less 
impression at Court, and very little in the private circle 
of the King and Queen. His eccentric manners, his frank- 
ness, often degenerating into rudeness, and his evidently 



120 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

affected simplicity — all these characteristics caused him', to 
be looked upon as a Prince rather singular than admirable. 
The Queen spoke to him about the apartment she had 
prepared for him in the Chateau ; the Emperor answered 
that he would not accept it, and that while travelling he 
always lodged at a cabaret (that was his very expression) ; the 
Queen insisted, and assured him that he should be at 
perfect liberty, and placed out of the reach of noise. He 
replied that he knew the Chateau of Versailles was very 
large, and that so many scoundrels lived there that he could 
well find a place ; but that his valet de chambre had made 
up his camp-bed in a lodging-house, and there he would 
stay. 

He dined with the King and Queen, and supped with 
the whole family. He appeared to take an interest in the 
young Princess Elizabeth, then just past childhood, and 
blooming in all the freshness of that age. An intended 
marriage between him and this young sister of the King was 
reported at the time, but I believe it had no foundation in 
truth. 

The table was still served by females only, when the 
Queen dined in private with the King, the royal family, or 
crowned heads. ^ I was present at the Queen's dinner 

1 The custom was, even supposing dinner to have commenced, if a 
Princess of the blood arrived, and she was asked to sit down at the Queen's 
table, , the comptrollers and gentlemen-in-waiting came immediately to 
attend, and the Queen's women withdrew. These had succeeded the 
maids of honour in several parts of their service, and had preserved some 
of their privileges. One day the Duchesse d'Orldans arrived at Fontaine- 
bleau, at the Queen's dinner-hour. The Queen invited her to the table, 
and herself motioned to her women to leave the room, and let the men 
take their places. Her Majesty said she was resolved to continue a privi- 
lege which kept places of that description most honourable, and render 
them suitable for ladies of nobility without fortune. Madame de Misery, 
Baronne de Biache, the Queen's first lady of the chamber, to whom I was 
made reversioner, was a daughter of M. le Comte de Chemant, and her 



THE EMPEROR JOSEPH 



almost every day. The Emperor would talk much and 
fluently ; he expressed himself in French with facility, and 
the singularity of his expressions added a zest to his con- 
versation. I have often heard him say that he liked spec- 
taculous objects, when he meant to express such things as 
formed a show, or a scene worthy of interest. He disguised 
none of his prejudices against the etiquette and customs of 
the Court of France ; and even in the presence of the King 
made them the subject of his sarcasms. The King smiled, 
but never made any answer \ the Queen appeared pained. 
The Emperor frequently terminated his observations upon 
the objects in Paris which he had admired by reproaching 
the King for suffering himself to remain in ignorance of 
them. He could not conceive how such a wealth of 
pictures should remain shut up in the dust of immense 
stores '?■ and told him one day that but for the practice of 
placing some of them in the apartments of Versailles he 
would not know even the principal chef d'o^uvres that he 
possessed. ^ He also reproached him for not having visited 
the Hotel des Invalides nor the Ecole Militaire ; and even 
went so far as to tell him before us that he ought not only 
to know what Paris contained, but to travel in France, and 
reside a few days in each of his large towns, 
grandmother was a Montmorency, M. le Prince de Tingry, in the pre- 
sence of the Queen, used to call her cousin. The ancient household of 
the Kings of France had prerogatives acknowledged in the State. Many 
of the offices were tenable only by those of noble blood, and were sold at 
from 40,000 to 300,000 francs. A collection of edicts of the Kings in 
favour of the prerogatives and right of precedence of the persons holding 
office in the royal household is still in e.x\zien.c&.—Mada7neCampafi. 

^ Shortly after the Emperor's departure, the Comte d'Angivillers laid 
before the King plans for the erection of the Museum, which was then 
begun. — Madame Campan. 

^ The Emperor loudly censured the existing practice of allowing shop- 
keepers to erect shops near the outward walls of all the palaces, and even 
to establish something hke a fair in the galleries of Versailles and Fontaine- 
bleau, and even upon the landings of the staircases. — Madame Campan. 



122 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

At last the Queen was really hurt at the Emperor's re- 
marks, and gave him a few lectures upon the freedom with 
which he allowed himself to lecture others. One day she 
was busied in signing warrants and orders for payment for 
her household, and was conversing with M. Augeard, her 
secretary for such matters, who presented the papers one 
after another to be signed, and replaced them in his port- 
folio. While this was going forward, the Emperor walked 
about the room ; all at once he stood still, to reproach the 
Queen rather severely for signing all those papers without 
reading them, or, at least, without running her eye over 
them ; and he spoke most judiciously to her upon the 
danger of signing her name inconsiderately. The Queen 
answered that very wise principles might be very ill applied ; 
that her secretary, who deserved her implicit confidence, 
was at that moment laying before her nothing but orders 
for payment of the quarter's expenses of her household, 
registered in the Chamber of Accounts ; and that she ran 
no risk of incautiously giving her signature. 

The Queen's toilette was likewise a never-failing subject 
for animadversion with the Emperor. He blamed her for 
having introduced too many new fashions ; and teased her 
about her use of rouge. One day, while she was laying on 
more of it than usual, before going to the play, he pointed 
out a lady who was in the room, and who was, in truth, 
highly painted. "A little more under the eyes," said the 
Emperor to the Queen; "lay on the rouge like a fury, as 
that lady does." The Queen entreated her brother to re- 
frain from his jokes, or at all events to address them, when 
they were so outspoken, to her alone. 

The Queen had made an appointment to meet her 
brother at the Itahan theatre ; she changed her mind, and 
went to the French theatre, sending a page to the Italian 
theatre to request the Emperor to come to her there. He 



IMPERIAL GOSSIP 123 

left his box, lighted by the comedian Clairval, and attended 
by M. de la Ferte, comptroller of the Queen's privy purse, 
who was much hurt at hearing his Imperial Majesty, after 
kindly expressing his regret at not being present during the 
Italian performance, say to Clairval, " Your young Queen is 
very giddy ; but, luckily, you Frenchmen have no great 
objection to that." 

I was with my father-in-law in one of the Queen's apart- 
ments when the Emperor came to wait for her there, and 
knowing that M. Campan was librarian, he conversed with 
him about such books as would of course be found in the 
Queen's library. After talking of our most celebrated 
authors, he casually said, There are doubtless no works on 
finance or on administration here?" 

These words were followed by his opinion on all that 
had been written on those topics, and the different systems 
of our two famous ministers. Sully and Colbert ; on errors 
which were daily committed in France, in points essential 
to the prosperity of the empire ; and on the reform he him- 
self would make at Vienna ; holding M. Campan by the 
button, he spent more than an hour talking vehemently, 
and without the slightest reserve, about the French Govern- 
ment. My father-in-law and myself maintained profound 
silence, as much from astonishment as from respect ; and 
when we were alone we agreed not to speak of this inter- 
view. 

The Emperor was fond of describing the Italian Courts 
that he had visited. The jealous quarrels between the King 
and Queen of Naples amused him highly ; he described to 
the life the manner and speech of that sovereign, and the 
simplicity with which he used to go and solicit the first 
chamberlain to obtain permission to return to the nuptial 
bed, when the angry Queen had banished him from it. The- 
time which he was made to wait for this reconciliation was 



124 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

calculated between the Queen and her chamberlain, and 
always proportioned to the gravity of the offence. He also 
related several very amusing stories relative to the Court of 
Parma, of which he spoke with no Httle contempt If what 
this Prince said of those Courts, and even of Vienna, had 
been written down, the whole would have formed an in- 
teresting collection. The Emperor told the King that the 
Grand Duke of Tuscany and the King of Naples being 
together, the former said a great deal about the changes he 
had effected in his State. The Grand Duke had issued a 
mass of new edicts, in order to carry the precepts of the 
economists into execution, and trusted that in so doing he 
was labouring for the welfare of his people. The King 
of Naples suffered him to go on speaking for a long time, 
and then casually asked how many Neapolitan families there 
were in Tuscany. The Duke soon reckoned them up, as 
they were but few. "Well, brother," replied the King ot 
Naples, "I do not understand the indifference of your 
people towards your great reforms ; for I have four times 
the number of Tuscan families settled in my States that 
you have of Neapolitan families in yours." 

The Queen being at the opera with the Emperor, the 
latter did not wish to show himself; but she took him by 
the hand, and gently drew him to the front of the box. 
This kind of presentation to the public was most warmly 
received. The performance was Iphigenia in Aulis, and for 
the second time the chorus, Chanfons, celebrons notre Reine ! 
was called for with universal plaudits. 

A fete of a novel description was given at Petit Trianon. 
The art with which the English garden was not illuminated 
but lighted, produced a charming effect. Earthen lamps, 
concealed by boards painted green, threw light upon the 
beds of shrubs and flowers, and brought out their varied 
tints. Several hundred burning faggots in the moat behind 



THE emperor's ECONOMY 125 

the Temple of Love made a blaze of light, which rendered 
that spot the most brilliant in the garden. After all, this 
evening's entertainment had nothing remarkable about it 
but the good taste of the artists, yet it was much talked of. 
The situation did not allow the admission of a great part of 
the Court \ those who were uninvited were dissatisfied ; and 
the people, who never forgive d^x^y fetes but those they share 
in, so exaggerated the cost of this little j^/^ as to make it 
appear that the faggots burnt in the moat had required the 
destruction of a whole forest. The Queen being informed 
of these reports, was determined to know exactly how much 
wood had been consumed; and she found that fifteen 
hundred faggots had sufficed to keep up the fire until four 
o'clock in the morning. 

After staying a few months the Emperor left France, 
promising his sister to come and see her again. All the 
officers of the Queen's chamber had many opportunities of 
serving him during his stay, and expected that he would 
make them presents before his departure. Their oath of 
office positively forbade them to receive a gift from any 
foreign Prince ; they had therefore agreed to refuse the 
Emperor's presents at first, but to ask the time necessary 
for obtaining permission to accept them. The Emperor, 
probably informed of this custom, relieved the good people 
from their difficulty by setting off without making a single 
present. 

About the latter end of .1 7 7 7 the Queen, being alone in 
her closet, sent for my father-in-law and myself, and giving 
us her hand to kiss, told us that, looking upon us both as 
persons deeply interested in her happiness, she wished to 
receive our congratulations : that at length she was the 
Queen of France, and that she hoped soon to have children ; 
that till now she had concealed her grief, but that she had 
shed many tears in secret. 



126 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Dating from this happy but long-delayed moment, the 
King's attachment to y^e Queen assumed every characteristic 
of love ; the good Lassone, first physician to the King and 
Queen, frequently spoke to me of the uneasiness that the 
King's indifference, the cause of which he had been so 
long in overcoming, had given him, and appeared to me at 
that time to entertai^ no anxiety except of a very different 
description. 

In the winter of 1778 the King's permission for the 
return of Voltaire, after an absence of twenty-seven years, 
was obtained. A few strict persons considered this conces- 
sion on the part of the Court very injudicious. The Emperor, 
on leaving France, passed by the Chateau of Ferney without 
stopping there. He had advised the Queen not to suffer 
Voltaire to be presented to her. A lady belonging to the 
Court learned the Emperor's opinion on that point, and 
reproached him with his want of enthusiasm towards the 
greatest genius of the age. He replied that for the good of 
the people he should always endeavour to profit by the 
knowledge of the philosophers ; but that his own business 
of sovereign would always prevent his ranking himself 
amongst that sect. The clergy also took steps to hinder 
Voltaire's appearance at Court. Paris, however, carried to 
the highest pitch the honours and enthusiasm shown to the 
great poet. Tt was very unwise to let Paris pronounce with 
such transport an opinion so opposite to that of the Court. 
This was pointed out to the Queen, and she was told that, 
without conferring on Voltaire the honour of a presentation, 
she might see him in the State apartments. She was not 
averse to following this advice, and appeared embarrassed 
solely about what she should say to him. She was recom- 
mended to talk about nothing but the Henriade, Merope, 
and Zaira. The Queen replied that she would still consult 
a few other persons in whom she had great confidence. 



THE QUEEN ON VOLTAIRE 127 

The next day she announced that it was irrevocably decided 
Voltaire should not see any member of the royal family — 
his writings being too antagonistic to religion and morals. 
"It. is, however, strange," said the Queen, "that while we 
refuse to admit Voltaire into our presence as the leader of 
philosophical writers, the Marechale de Mouchy should have 
presented to me some years ago Madame Geoffrin, who 
owed her celebrity to the title of foster-mother of the 
philosophers." 

On the occasion of the duel of the Comte d'Artois with 
the Prince de Bourbon the Queen determined privately to 
see the Baron de Besenval, who was to be one of the 
witnesses, in order to communicate the King's intentions. 
I have read with infinite pain the manner in which that 
simple fact is perverted in the first volume of M. de 
Besenval's Memoirs. He is right in saying that M. 
Campan led him through the upper corridors of the 
Chateau, and introduced him into an apartment unknown 
to him : but the air of romance given to the interview is 
equally culpable and ridiculous. M. de Besenval says that 
he found himself, without knowing how he came there, in 
an apartment unadorned, but very conveniently furnished, of 
the existence of which he was till then utterly ignorant. 
He was astonished, he adds, not that the Queen should 
have so many facilities, but that she should have ventured 
to procure them. Ten printed sheets of the woman 
Lamotte's libels contain nothing so injurious to the 
character of Marie Antoinette as these lines, written by a 
man whom she honoured by undeserved kindness. He 
could not have had any opportunity of knowing the 
existence of the apartments, which consisted of a very 
small antechamber, a bed-chamber, and a closet. Ever 
since the Queen had occupied her own apartment, these 
had been appropriated to her Majesty's lady of honour in 



128 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

cases of illness, and were actually so used when the Queen 
was confined. It was so important that it should not be 
known the Queen had spoken to the Baron before the duel 
that she had determined to go through her inner room 
into this little apartment, to which M. Campan was to 
conduct him. When men write of recent times they should 
be scrupulously exact, and not indulge in exaggerations or 
inventions. 

The Baron de Besenval appears mightily surprised at 
the Queen's sudden coolness, and refers it to the fickleness 
of her disposition. I can explain the reason for the change 
by repeating what her Majesty said to me at the time ; and 
I will not alter one of her expressions. Speaking of the 
strange presumption of men, and the reserve with which 
women ought always to treat them, the Queen added that 
age did not deprive them of the hope of pleasing, if they 
retained any agreeable qualities ; that she had treated the 
Baron de Besenval as a brave Swiss, agreeable, polished, 
and witty, whose gray hairs had induced her to look upon 
him as a man whom she might see without harm ; but that 
she had been much deceived. Her Majesty, after having 
enjoined me to the strictest secrecy, told me that, finding 
herself alone with the Baron, he began to address her with 
so much gallantry that she was thrown into the utmost 
astonishment, and that he was mad enough to fall upon 
his knees, and make her a declaration in form. The 
Queen added, that she said to him : " Rise, sir ; the King 
shall be ignorant of an offence which would disgrace you 
for ever \ " that the Baron grew pale and stammereil 
apologies ; that she left her closet without saying another 
word, and that since that time she hardly ever spoke to him. 
" It is delightful to have friends," said the Queen ; " but in a 
situation like mine it is sometimes difficult for the friends 
of our friends to suit us." 



THE CHEVALIER d' EON 129 

In the beginning of the year 1778 Mademoiselle d'Eon 
obtained permission to return to France, on condition that 
she should appear there in female dress. The Comte de 
Vergennes entreated my father, M. Genet, chief clerk of 
Foreign Affairs, who had long known the Chevalier d'Eon, 
to receive that strange personage at his house, to guide and 
restrain, if possible her ardent disposition. The Queen, on 
learning her arrival at Versailles, sent a footman to desire 
my father to bring her into her presence ; my father thought 
it his duty first to inform the Minister of her Majesty's wish. 
The Comte de Vergennes expressed himself pleased with 
my father's prudence, and desired that he would accompany 
him to the Queen. The Minister had a few minutes' 
audience; her Majesty came out of her closet with him, 
and condescended to express to my father the regret she 
felt at having troubled him to no purpose ; and added, 
smiling, that a few words from M. de Vergennes had for 
ever cured her of her curiosity. The discovery in London 
of the true sex of this pretended woman makes it probable 
that the few words uttered by the minister contained a 
solution of the enigma. 

The Chevalier d'Eon had been useful in Russia as a spy 
of Louis XV. While very young he had found means to 
introduce himself at the Court of the Empress Elizabeth, 
and served that sovereign in the capacity of reader. Re- 
suming afterwards his military dress, he served with honour 
and was wounded. Appointed chief secretary of legation, 
and afterwards minister plenipotentiary at London, he 
unpardonably insulted Comte de Guerchy, the ambassador. 
The official order for the Chevalier's return to France was 
actually delivered to the King's Council; but Louis XV. 
delayed the departure of the courier who was to be its 
bearer, and sent off another courier privately, who gave the 
Chevalier d'^feon a letter in his own writing, in which he 

9 



I30 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

said, " I know that you have served me as effectually in the 
dress of a woman as in that which you now wear. Resume 
it instantly ; withdraw into the city ; I warn you that the 
King yesterday signed an order for your return to France ; 
you are not safe in your hotel, and you would here find too 
powerful enemies." I heard the Chevalier d'Eon repeat 
the contents of this letter, in which Louis XV. thus separated 
himself from the King of France, several times at my father's. 
The Chevalier, or rather the Chevaliere d'Eon had preserved 
all the King's letters. Messieurs de Maurepas and de 
Vergennes wished to get them out of his hands, as they 
were afraid he would print them. This eccentric being had 
long solicited permission to return to France ; but it was 
necessary to find a way of sparing the family he had offended 
the insult they would see in his return ; he was therefore 
made to resume the costume of that sex to which in France 
everything is pardoned. The desire to see his native land 
once more determined him to submit to the condition, but 
he revenged himself by combining the long train of his 
gown and the three deep ruffles on his sleeves with the 
attitude and conversation of a grenadier, which made him 
very disagreeable company.^ 

•^ The account given by Madame Campan of the Chevalier d'Eon is 
now known to be incorrect in many particulars. Enough details for most 
readers will be found in the Due de Broglie's Secret of the King, vol. ii., 
chaps, vi. and x,, and at p. 89, vol. ii. of that work, where the Duke 
refers to the letter of most dubious authenticity spoken of by Madame. 
Campan. The following details will be sufficient for these memoirs : — The 
Chevalier Charles d'Eon de Beaumont (who was born in 1728) was an ex- 
captain of dragoons, employed in both the open and the secret diplomacy 
of Louis XV. When at the embassy in London he quarrelled with the 
ambassador, his superior, the Comte de Guerchy (Marquis de Nangis) ; 
and used his possession of papers concerning the secret diplomacy to 
shield himself. It was when hiding in London, in 1765, on account of 
this business, that he seems first to have assumed woman's dress, which he 
retained apparently chiefly from lj)ve of notoriety. In 1775 a formal . 
agreement with the French Court, made by the instrumentality of 



GARDEN PAR TIES A T MIDNIGHT 1 3 1 

At last, the event so long desired by the Queen, and by 
all those who wished her well, took place; her Majesty 
became enceinte. The King was in ecstasies. Never was 
there a more united or happier couple. The disposition of 
Louis XVI. entirely altered, and became prepossessing and 
conciliatory; and the Queen was amply compensated for 
the uneasiness which the King's indifference during the 
early part of their union had caused her. 

The summer of 1778 was extremely hot. July and 
August passed, but the air was not cooled by a single storm. 
The Queen spent whole days in close rooms, and could 
not sleep until she had breathed the fresh night air, walking 
with the Princesses and her brothers upon the terrace under 
her apartments. These promenades at first gave rise to no 
remark ; but it occurred to some of the party to enjoy the 
music of wind instruments during these fine summer nights. 
The musicians belonging to the chapel were ordered to 
perform pieces suited to instruments of that description, 
upon steps constructed in the middle of the garden. The 
Queen, seated on one of the terrace benches, enjoyed the 
effect of this music, surrounded by the whole of the royal 
family with the exception of the King, who joined them but 
twice, disliking to change his hour of going to bed. 

Nothing could be more innocent than these parties j yet 
Paris, France, nay, all Europe, were soon canvassing them 
in a manner most disadvantageous to the reputation of 

Beaumarchais, of all people in the world, permitted him to return to 
France, retaining the dress of a woman. He went back to France, but 
again came to England, and died there, at his residence in Millman Street, 
near the Foundling Hospital, May 22d, 18 10. He had been a brave and 
distinguished ofificer, but his form and a certain coldness of temperament 
always remarked in him assisted him in his assumption of another sex. 
There appears to be no truth in the story of his proceedings at the Russian 
Court, and his appearing in female attire was a surprise to those who 
must have known of any earlier affair of the sort. 



132 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Marie Antoinette. It is true that all the inhabitants of 
Versailles enjoyed these serenades, and that there was a 
crowd near the spot from eleven at night until two or three 
in the morning. The windows of the ground floor occupied 
by Monsieur and Madame ^ were kept open, and the terrace 
was perfectly well lighted by the numerous wax candles 
burning in the two apartments. Lamps were likewise 
placed in the garden, and the lights of the orchestra 
illuminated the rest of the place. 

I do not know whether a few incautious females might 
not have ventured farther, and wandered to the bottom of 
the park ; it may have been so ; but the Queen, Madame, 
and the Comtesse d'Artois were always arm-in-arm, and 
never left the terrace. The Princesses were not remarkable 
when seated on the benches, being dressed in cambric 
muslin gowns, with large straw hats and muslin veils, a 
costume universally adopted by females at that time ; but 
when standing up their different figures always distinguished 
themj and the persons present stood on one side to let 
them pass. It is true that when they seated themselves 
upon the benches private individuals would sometimes, to 
their great amusement, sit down by their side. A young 
clerk in the war department, either not knowing or pretend- 
ing not to know the Queen, spoke to her of the beauty of 
the night, and the delightful effect of the music. The 
Queen, fancying she was not recognised, amused herself by 
keeping up the incognito, and they talked of several private 
families of Versailles, consisting of persons belonging to the 
King's household or her own. After a few minutes the 
Queen and Princesses rose to walk, and on leaving the 
bench curtsied to the clerk. The young man knowing, or 
having subsequently discovered, that he had been conversing 
with the Queen, boasted of it in his office. He was merely 

1 The wife of Monsieur, the Comte de Provence, 



IMPR UDENT AMUSEMENTS i t,z 

desired to hold his tongue \ and so little attention did he 
excite that the Revolution found him still only a clerk. 
Another evening one of Monsieur's body-guard seated him- 
self near the Princesses, and, knowing them, left the place 
where he was sitting and placed himself before the Queen, 
to tell her that he was very fortunate in being able to seize 
an opportunity of imploring the kindness of his sovereign ; 
that he was "soliciting at Court" — at the word soliciting 
the Queen and Princesses rose hastily and withdrew into 
Madame's apartment.^ I was at the Queen's residence that 
day. She talked of this little occurrence all the time of her 
coucher; though she only complained that one of Monsieur's 
guards should have had the effrontery to speak to her. 
Her Majesty added that he ought to have respected her 
incognito ; and that that was not the place where he should 
have ventured to make a request. Madame had recognised 
him, and talked of making a complaint to his captain ; the 
Queen opposed it, attributing his error to his ignorance and 
provincial origin. 

The most scandalous libels were based on these two 
insignificant occurrences, which I have related with scrupu- 
lous exactness. Nothing could be more false than those 
calumnies. It must be confessed, however, that such 
meetings were liable to ill consequences. I ventured to say 
as much to the Queen, and informed her* that one evening, 
when her Majesty had beckoned to me to go and spQak to 
her, I thought I recognised on the bench on which she was 
sitting two women deeply veiled, and keeping profound 
silence ; that those women were the Comtesse du Barry and 
her sister-in-law; and that my suspicions were confirmed 
when, at a few paces from the seat, and nearer to her 
Majesty, I met a tall footman belonging to Madame du 

^ Soulavie has most criminally perverted these two facts. — Madame 
Campan. 



134 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Barry, whom I had seen in her service all the time she 
resided at Court. 

My advice was disregarded. Misled by the pleasure she 
found in these promenades, and secure in the consciousness 
of blameless conduct, the Queen would not see the lament- 
able results which must necessarily follow. This was very 
unfortunate; for, besides the mortifications they brought 
upon her, it is highly probable that they prompted the vile 
plot which gave rise to the Cardinal de Rohan's fatal error. 

Having enjoyed these evening promenades about a 
month, the Queen ordered a private concert within the 
colonnade which contained the group of Pluto and Proser- 
pine. Sentinels were placed at all the entrances, and 
ordered to admit within the colonnade only such persons as 
should produce tickets signed by my father-in-law. A fine 
concert was performed there by the musicians of the chapel 
and the female musicians belonging to the Queen's chamber. 
The Queen went with Mesdames de Polignac, de Chalon, 
and d'Andlau, and Messieurs de Polignac, de Coigny, de 
Besenval, and de Vaudreuil ; there were also a few equerries 
present. Her Majesty gave me permission to attend the 
concert with some of my female relations. There was no 
music upon the terrace. The crowd of inquisitive people, 
whom the sentinels kept at a distance from the enclosure of 
the colonnade, went away highly discontented; the small 
number of persons admitted no doubt occasioned jealousy, 
and gave rise to offensive comments which were caught up 
by the public with avidity. I do not pretend to apologise 
for the kind of amusements with which the Queen indulged 
herself during this and the following summer; the conse- 
quences were so lamentable that the error was no doubt 
very great ; but what I have said respecting the character 
of these promenades may be relied on as true. 

When the season for evening walks was at an end, 



THE KING DEFENDS THE QUEEN 135 

odious couplets were circulated in Paris ; the Queen was 
treated in them in the most insulting manner ; her situation 
ranked among her enemies persons attached to the only 
Prince who for several years had appeared likely to give 
heirs to the crown. People uttered the most inconsiderate 
language ; and those improper conversations took place in 
societies wherein the imminent danger of violating to so 
criminal an extent both truth and the respect due to 
sovereigns ought to have been better understood. A few 
days before the Queen's confinement a whole volume of 
manuscript songs concerning her and all the ladies about 
her remarkable for rank or station was thrown down in the 
ceil-de-bxuf?- This manuscript was immediately put into 
the hands of the King, who was highly incensed at it, and 
said that he had himself been at those promenades ; that he 
had seen nothing connected with them but what was 
perfectly harmless; that such songs would disturb the 
harmony of twenty families in the Court and city j that it 
was a capital crime to have made any against the Queen 
herself; and that he wished the author of the infamous 
libels to be discovered and punished. A fortnight after- 
wards it was known publicly that the verses were by M. 
Champcenetz de Riquebourg,^ who was not even repri- 
manded. 

I knew for a certainty that the King spoke to M. de 
Maurepas, before two of his most confidential servants, 
respecting the risk which he saw the Queen ran from these 
night walks upon the terrace of Versailles, which the public 

1 A large room at Versailles lighted by a bull's-eye window, and used 
as a waiting-room. 

2 The author of a great many songs, some of which are very well 
written. Lively and satirical by nature, he did not lose either his cheerful- 
ness or his carelessness before the revolutionary tribunal. After hearing 
his own sentence read, he asked his judges if he might not be allowed to 
find a substitute. — Madame Carnpan. 



136 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

ventured to censure thus openly, and that the old minister 
had the cruelty to advise that she should be suffered to go 
on ; she possessed talent ; her friends were very ambitious, 
and longed to see her take a part in public affairs ; and to 
let her acquire the reputation of levity would do no harm. 
M. de Vergennes was as hostile to the Queen's influence as 
M. de Maurepas. It may therefore be fairly presumed, 
since the Prime Minister durst point out to his King an 
advantage to be gained by the Queen's discrediting her- 
self, that he and M. de Vergennes employed all means 
within the reach of powerful ministers in order to ruin her 
in the opinion of the public.^ 

The Queen's accouchement approached ; Te Deuins were 
sung and prayers offered up in all the cathedrals. On the 
nth of December 1778 the royal family, the Princes of the 
blood, and the great officers of State, passed the night in 
the rooms adjoining the Queen's bed-chamber. Madame, 
the King's daughter, came into the world before mid-day 
on the 19th of December.^ The etiquette of allowing all 
persons indiscriminately to enter at the moment of the 
delivery of a Queen was observed with such exaggeration 
that when the accoucheur said aloud, La Reine va s'accoucher, 
the persons who poured into the chamber were so numer- 
ous that the rush nearly destroyed the Queen. During the 
night the King had taken the precaution to have the 
enormous tapestry screens which surrounded her Majesty's 
bed secured with cords ; but for this they certainly would 
have been thrown down upon her. It was impossible to 

1 Madame Campan's account of the conduct of the Comte de Maurepas 
is confirmed by a writer with whom she is very seldom in accordance. * ' It 
is known," says Soulavie, "that in 1774, 1775, and 1776, M. de Maure- 
pas stirred up private quarrels between Louis XVI. and his wife on 
pretence of the Queen's inconsiderate conduct." — Note by the Editor. 

'^ Marie Th^r^se Charlotte (1778-1851), Madame Royale ; married in 
1799 Louis, Due d'Angouleme, eldest son of the Comte d'Artois. 



BIRTH OF MADAME ROYALE 137 

move about the chamber, which was filled with so motley a 
crowd that one might have fancied himself in some place of 
public amusement. Two Savoyards got upon the furniture 
for a better sight of the Queen, who was placed opposite 
the fireplace. 

The noise and the sex of the infant, with which the 
Queen was made acquainted by a signal previously agreed on, 
as it is said, with the Princesse de Lamballe, or some error 
of the accoucheur^ brought on symptoms which threatened 
fatal consequences ; the accoucheur exclaimed, " Give her 
air — warm water — she must be bled in the foot ! " The 
windows were stopped up; the King opened them with 
a strength which his affection for the Queen gave him 
at the moment. They were of great height, and pasted 
over with strips of paper all round. The basin of hot water 
not being brought quickly enough, the accoucheur desired 
the chief surgeon to use his lancet without waiting for it. 
He did so ; the blood streamed out freely, and the Queen 
opened her eyes. The Princesse de Lamballe was carried 
through the crowd in a state of insensibility. The valets de 
chanibre and pages dragged out by the collar such incon- 
siderate persons as would not leave the room. This cruel 
custom was abolished afterwards. The Princes of the 
family, the Princes of the blood, the chancellor and the 
ministers are surely sufficient to attest the legitimacy of an 
hereditary Prince. The Queen was snatched from the very 
jaws of death ; she was not conscious of having been bled, 
and on being replaced in bed asked why she had a linen 
bandage upon her foot. 

The delight which succeeded the moment of fear was 
equally lively and sincere. We were all embracing each 
other, and shedding tears of joy. The Comte d'Esterhazy 
and the Prince de Poix, to whom I was the first to 
announce that the Queen was restored to life, embraced me 



138 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

in the midst of the cabinet of the nobles. We little 
imagined, in our happiness at her escape from death, for 
how much more terrible a fate our beloved Princess was 
reserved. 



Annex to Chapter VIII 

The two following specimens of the Emperor Joseph's 
correspondence forcibly demonstrate the vigour, shrewd- 
ness, and originality of his mind, and complete the portrait 
left of him by Madame Campan. 

Few sovereigns have given their reasons for refusing 
appointments with the fulness and point of the following 
letter : — 

To a Lady. 

Madam — I do not think that it is amongst the duties of a monarch 
to grant places to one of his subjects merely because he is a gentleman. 
That, however, is the inference from the request you have made to me. 
Your late husband was, you say, a distinguished general, a gentleman 
of good family, and thence you conclude that my kindness to your 
family can do no less than give a company of foot to your second son, 
lately returned from his travels. 

Madam, a 'man may be the son of a general and yet have no 
talent for command. A man may be of a good family and yet possess 
no other merit than that which he owes to chance — the name of 
gentleman. 

I know your son, and I know what makes the soldier j and this 
twofold knowledge convinces me that your son has not the disposition 
of a warrior, and that he is too full of his birth to leave the country a 
hope of his ever rendering it any important service. 

What you are to be pitied for. Madam, is, that your son is not fit 
either for an officer, a statesman, or a priest ; in a word, that he is 
nothing more than a gentleman in the most extended acceptation of 
the word. 



LETTERS OF THE EMPEROR OF AUSTRIA 139 

You may be thankful to that destiny, which, in refusing talents to 
your son, has taken care to put him in possession of great wealth, 
which will sufficiently compensate him for other deficiencies, and enable 
him at the same time to dispense with any favour from me. 

I hope you will be impartial enough to see the reasons which 
prompt me to refuse your request. It may be disagreeable to you, 
but I consider it necessary. Farewell, Madam. — Your sincere well- 
wisher, Joseph. 

Lachsenburg, /\fth August 1787. 

The application of another anxious and somewhat 
. covetous mother was answered with still more decision and 
irony : — 

To a Lady. 

Madam — You know my disposition ; you are not ignorant that the 
society of the ladies is to me a mere recreation, and that I have never 
sacrificed my principles to the fair sex. I pay but little attention to 
recommendations, and I only take them into consideration when the 
person in whose behalf I may be solicited possesses real merit. 

Two of your sons are already loaded with favours. The eldest, 
who is not yet »twenty, is chief of a squadron in my army, and the 
younger has obtained a canonry at Cologne, from the Elector, my 
brother. What would you have more ? Would you have the first a 
general and the second a bishop ? 

In France you may see colonels in leading strings, and in Spain 
the royal princes command armies even at eighteen ; hence Prince 
Stahremberg forced them to retreat so often that they were never able 
all the rest of their lives to comprehend any other manoeuvre. 

It is necessary to be sincere at Court, and severe in the field, stoical 
without obduracy, magnanimous without weakness, and to gain the 
esteem of our enemies by the justice of our actions ; and this, Madam, 
is what I aim at. Joseph. 

Vienna, September 1787. 

(From the inedited Letters of Joseph II., published at Paris, by 
Persan, 1822.) 



CHAPTER IX 

Public rejoicings — Death of Maria Theresa ; the Queen's affliction — 
Anecdotes of Maria Theresa — Birth of the Dauphin — Bankruptcy 
of the Prince de Guemenee — The Duchesse de Polignac is 
appointed governess of the Children of France — Jealousy of the 
Court — Mode of life at Trianon — Presumption of the Due de 
Fronsac — American War — Franklin — M. de La Fayette — Order 
for admitting none but gentlemen to the rank of officer — ^Spirit of 
the Third Estate. 

During the alarm for the life of the Queen, regret at not 
possessing an heir to the throne was not even thought of 
The King himself was wholly occupied with the care of 
preserving an adored wife. The young Princess was 
presented to her mother. "Poor little one," said the 
Queen, "you were not wished for, but you are not on that 
account less dear to me. A son would have been rather 
the property of the State. You shall be mine ; you shall 
have my undivided care, shall share all my happiness, and 
console me in all my troubles." 

The King despatched a courier to Paris ; and wrote 
letters himself to Vienna, by the Queen's bedside ; and 
part of the rejoicings ordered took place in the capital.^ 

^ The Queen's propitious delivery was celebrated throughout France. 
The birth of Madame inspired more than one poet. The following 
madrigal, by Imbert, was much admired : — 

"A Dauphin we asked of our Queen ; 
A Princess announces him near : 
Since one of the Graces is seen, 
Young Cupid will quickly appear." 

Note by the Editor. 



PUBLIC REJOICINGS 141 

A great number of attendants watched near the Queen 
during the first nights of her confinement. This custom 
distressed her; she knew how to feel for others, and 
ordered large armchairs for her women, the backs of which 
were capable of being let down by springs, and which served 
perfectly well instead of beds. 

M. de Lassone, the chief physician, the chief surgeon, 
the chief apothecary, the principal officers of the buttery, 
etc., were likewise nine nights without going to bed. The 
royal children were watched for a long time, and one of the 
women on duty remained, nightly, up and dressed, during the 
first three years from their birth. 

The Queen made her entry into Paris for the churching. 
One hundred maidens were portioned and married at Notre 
Dame. There were few popular acclamations, but her 
Majesty was perfectly well received at the opera.^ 

A few days after the Queen's recovery from her confine- 

1 The acts of benevolence performed by the ofificers of the city did not 
prevent them from amusing the people with the usual fetes. There were 
illuminations, feux de joie, fireworks, fountains of wine, and distributions 
of bread and sausages. All the theatres of Paris were open gratis — which 
was a new treat to the public. Every theatre was full before noon, and 
the performance began at two o'clock. The French comedians performed 
Zaira, and the little piece called Le Florenthi. In spite of all the pre- 
cautions taken to preserve the King's box for the charcoal vendors, who 
were accustomed to occupy it on similar occasions, as the poissardes, or 
market-women, did that of the Queen, their places were occupied when 
they arrived. They were informed of this, and thought it very strange. 
These two chief classes of the lower orders were seen disputing upon 
etiquette, with almost as much pertinacity as noblemen or sovereign courts. 
They demanded to know why the boxes appropriated to them by custom 
had been suffered to be occupied. It was necessary to call the officer for 
the week, and the histrionic senate being assembled in consultation, the 
registers were inspected, and the legitimacy of the claim was acknowledged. 
An offer was then made to the charcoal vendors to go upon the stage, and 
they all sat there on the King's side, upon benches prepared for them. 
The poissardes followed, and placed themselves on the opposite side.— 
Note by the Editor. 



142 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

ment, the Cure of the Magdelaine de la Cite at Paris wrote 
to M. Campan and requested a private interview with him ; 
it was to desire he would deliver into the hands of the 
Queen a little box containing her wedding ring, with this 
note written by the Cure : "I have received under the seal 
of confession the ring which I send to your Majesty j with 
an avowal that it was stolen from you in 1771, in order to 
be used in sorceries, to prevent you having any children." 
On seeing her ring again the Queen said that she had in fact 
lost it about seven years before, while washing her hands, 
and that she had resolved to use no endeavour to dis- 
cover the superstitious woman who had done her the injury. 
The Queen's attachment to the Comtesse Jules increased 
every day ; she went frequently to her house at Paris, and 
even took up her own abode at the Chateau de la Muette 
to be nearer during her confinement.^ She married 
Mademoiselle de Polignac, when scarcely thirteen years of 
age, to M. de Grammont, who, on account of this marriage, 
was made Due de Quiche, and captain of the King's 

1 "The Duchesse de Polignac," says Montjoie, in the Life of Marie 
Anioifiette, "sank under the fatigues of the life which her devotion to the 
Queen had imposed upon her, and which was little to her taste. Her 
health declined alarmingly : the physicians ordered her the Bath waters. 
As it was the established custom of the Court that the governess of the 
children of France should never be absent from them, the Duchess 
tendered her resignation to the Queen, who, having listened to her in 
silence, her eyes wet with tears, replied : ' You ought not to part from me, 
nor can you do it ; your heart could not suffer it. In the rank I fill it is 
difficult to meet with a friend ; and yet it is so useful — so happy — to con- 
fide in an estimable person ! You do not judge me as the common herd 
do — you know that the splendour which surrounds me adds nothing to 
happiness — you are not ignorant that my soul, full of bitterness and 
troubles which I must conceal, feels the necessity for a heart that sym- 
pathises with them. Ought I not, then, to thank Heaven for having given 
me a friend like you, faithful, feeling, attached to myself and not to my 
rank ? The benefit is inestimable ! in the name of God, do not deprive 
me of it !' " — Note by the Editor. 



DEATH OF THE QUEEN S MOTHER 143 

Guards, in reversion after the Uuc de Villeroi. The 
Duchesse de Civrac, Madame Victoire's dame d^honneur, 
had been promised the place for the Due de Lorges, her 
son. The number of discontented families at Court 
increased. 

The title of favourite was too openly given to the 
Comtesse Jules by her friends. The lot of the favourite 
of a Queen is not, in France, a happy one ; the favourites 
of Kings are treated, out of gallantry, with much greater 
indulgence. 

A short time after the birth of Madame the Queen be- 
came again enceinte; she had mentioned it only to the 
King, to her physician, and to a few persons honoured with 
her intimate confidence, when having over -exerted her 
strength in pulling up one of the glasses of her carriage, 
she felt that she had hurt herself, and eight days afterwards 
she miscarried. The King spent the whole morning at her 
bedside, consoling her, and manifesting the tenderest 
concern for her. The Queen wept exceedingly ; the King 
took her affectionately in his arms, and mingled his tears 
with hers. The King enjoined silence among the small 
number of persons who were informed of this unfortunate 
occurrence; and it remained generally unknown. These 
particulars furnish an accurate idea of the manner in which 
this august couple lived together. 

The Empress Maria Theresa did not enjoy the happiness 
of seeing her daughter give an heir to the Crown of France. 
That illustrious Princess died at the close of 1780, after 
having proved by her example that, as in the instance of 
Queen Blanche, the talents of a sovereign might be blended 
with the virtues of a pious Princess. The King was deeply 
affected at the death of the Empress ; and on the arrival of 
the courier from Vienna said that he could not bring him- 
self to afflict the Queen by informing her of an event which 



144 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

grieved even him so much. His Majesty thought the Abbe 
de Vermond, who had possessed the confidence of Maria 
Theresa during his stay at Vienna, the most proper person 
to discharge this painful duty. He sent his first valet de 
chambre, M. de Chamilly, to the Abbe on the evening of 
the day he received the despatches from Vienna, to order 
him to come the next day to the Queen before her break- 
fast hour, to acquit himself discreetly of the afflicting com- 
mission with which he was charged, and to let his Majesty 
know the moment of his entering the Queen's chamber. 
It was the King's intention to be there precisely a quarter 
of an hour after him, and he was punctual to his time ; he 
was announced ; the Abbe came out ; and his Majesty said 
to him, as he drew up at the door to let him pass, " / tha7ik 
yoti, Mo7isieur V Abbe, fo?' the service you have just do7ie niey 
This was the only time during nineteen years that the King 
spoke to him. 

Within an hour after learning the event the Queen put 
on temporary mourning, while waiting until her Court 
mourning should be ready ; she kept herself shut up in her 
apartments for several days; went out only to. mass; saw 
none but the royal family; and received none but the 
Princesse de Lamballe and the Duchesse de Polignac. 
She talked incessantly of the courage, the misfortunes, the 
successes, and the virtues of her mother. The shroud and 
dress in which Maria Theresa was to be buried, made 
entirely by her own hands, were found ready prepared in 
one of her closets. She often regretted that the numerous 
duties of her. august mother had prevented her from watching 
in person over the education of her daughters ; and modestly 
said that she herself would have been more worthy if she 
had had the good fortune to receive lessons directly from a 
sovereign so enlightened and so deserving of admiration.^ 

1 Without desirin? to lessen the high estimation in which the character 



THE EMPRESS MARIA THERESA 145 

The Queen told me one day that her mother was left a 
widow at an age when her beauty was yet striking ; that 
she was secretly informed of a plot laid by her three 
principal ministers to make themselves agreeable to her; 
of a compact made between them, that the losers should 
not feel any jealousy towards him who should be fortunate 
enough to gain his sovereign's heart; and that they had 
sworn that the successful one should be always the friend 
of the other two. The Empress being assured of this 
scheme, one day after the breaking up of the council over 
which she had presided, turned the conversation upon the 
subject of female sovereigns, and the duties of their sex 
and rank ; and then applying her general reflections to 
herself in particular, told them that she hoped to guard 
herself all her life against weaknesses of the heart ; but that 
if ever an irresistible feeling should make her alter her 
resolution, it should be only in favour of a man proof 
against ambition, not engaged in State affairs, but attached 
only to a private life and its calm enjoyments — in a word, 
if her heart should betray her so far as to lead her to 
love a man invested with any important office, from the 
moment he should discover her sentiments he would forfeit 
his place and his influence with the public. This was 
sufficient ; the three ministers, more ambitious than 
amorous, gave up their projects for ever. 

On the 2 2d of October 1781 the Queen gave birth to a 
Dauphin.^ So deep a silence prevailed in the room that 

of Maria Theresa may be held, it cannot be denied that certain acts of her 
policy were open to censure. The complaisance or the weakness of the 
other cabinets of Europe did not excuse her. "A bishop of Saint Brieuc, 
in a funeral oration upon Maria Theresa," says Chamfort, "got over the 
partition of Poland very easily : ' France, ' said he, ' having taken no 
notice of the partition in question, I will do as France did, and be silent 
about it hkewise. '" — Note by the Editor. 

^ The first Dauphin, Louis, born 1781, died 1789. 
10 



146 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

the Queen thought her child was a daughter ; but after the 
Keeper of the Seals had declared the sex of the infant, the 
King went up to the Queen's bed, and said to her, 
"Madame, you have fulfilled my wishes and those of 
France : you are the mother of a Dauphin." The King's 
joy was boundless : tears streamed from his eyes ; he gave 
his hand to every one present ; and his happiness carried 
away his habitual reserve. Cheerful and affable, he was 
incessantly taking occasion to introduce the words, my son, 
or the Dauphin. As soon as the Queen was in bed, she 
wished to see the long-looked-for infant. The Princesse de 
Guemenee brought him to her. The Queen said there was 
no need for commending him to the Princess, but in order 
to enable her to attend to him more freely, she would her- 
self share the care of the education of her daughter. When 
the Dauphin was settled in his apartment, he received the 
customary homages and visits. The Due d'Angouleme, ^ 
meeting his father at the entrance of the Dauphin's apart- 
ment, said to him, "Oh, papa! how little niy cousin is!" 
"The day will come when you will think him great enough, 
my dear," answered the Prince, almost involuntarily. 

The birth of the Dauphin appeared to. give joy to all 
classes. Men stopped one another in the streets, spoke 
without bejng acquainted, and those who were acquainted 
embraced each other. In the birth of a legitimate heir to 
the sovereign every man beholds a pledge of prosperity and 
tranquillity. ^ 

1 Eldest son of the Comte d'Artois, and till the birth of the Dauphjg 
with hear prospects of the succession. 

2 M. M^rard de Saint Just made a quatrain on the birth of the Dauphin 
to the following effect : — 

"This infant Prince our hopes are centred in, 
Will doubtless make us happy, rich, and free ; 
And since with somebody he must begin, 
My fervent prayer is — that it may be uie I " 

Note by the Editor. 



AN EVIL OMEN 147 



The rejoicings were splendid and ingenious. The arti- 
ficers and tradesmen of Paris spent considerable sums in 
order to go to Versailles in a body, with their various 
insignia. Almost every troop had music with it. When 
they arrived at the court of the palace, they there arranged 
themselves so as to present a most interesting living picture. 
Chimney-sweepers quite as well dressed as those that appear 
upon the stage carried an ornamented chimney, at the top 
of which was perched one of the smallest of their fraternity. 
The chairmen carried a sedan highly gilt, in which were to 
be seen a handsome nurse and a little Dauphin. The 
butchers made their appearance with their fat ox. Cooks, 
masons, blacksmiths, all trades were on the alert. The 
smiths hammered away upon an anvil, the shoemakers 
finished off a little pair of boots for the Dauphin, and the 
tailors a little suit of the uniform of his regiment. The 
King remained a long time upon a balcony to enjoy the 
sight. The whole Court was delighted with it. So general 
was the enthusiasm that (the police not having carefully ex- 
amined the procession) the grave-diggers had the imprudence 
to send their deputation also, with the emblematic devices 
of their ill-omened occupation. They were met by the 
Princess Sophie, the King's aunt, who was thrilled with 
horror at the sight, and entreated the King to have the 
audacious fellows driven out of the procession, which was 
then drawing up on the terrace. 

The "dames de la halle" came to congratulate the 
Queen, and were received with the suitable ceremonies. 
Fifty of them appeared dressed in black silk gowns, the 
established full dress of their order, and almost all wore 
diamonds. The Princesse de Chimay went to the door of 
the Queen's bedroom to receive three of these ladies, who 
were led up to the Queen's bed. One of them addressed 
her Majesty in a speech written by M. de la Harpe. It 



148 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

was set down on the inside of a fan, to which the speaker 
repeatedly referred, but without any embarrassment. She 
was handsome, and had a remarkably fine voice. The 
Queen was affected by the address, and answered it with 
great affability ; wishing a distinction to be made between 
these women and t\ie poissardes, who always left a disagree- 
able impression on her mind. The King ordered a sub- 
stantial repast for all these women. One of his Majesty's 
maitres (Thotel^ wearing his hat, sat as president and did the 
honours of the table. The public were admitted, and 
numbers of people had the curiosity to go. 

The Gardes-du-Corps obtained the King's permission to 
give the Queen a dress ball in the great hall of the opera 
at Versailles. Her Majesty opened the ball in a minuet 
with a private selected by the corps, to whom the King 
granted the baton of an Exempt. The fete was most 
splendid. All then was joy, happiness, and peace. ^ 

The Dauphin was a year old when the Prince de 
Guemenee's bankruptcy compelled the Princess, his wife, 
who was governess to the Enfans de France, to resign her 
situation. 

The Queen was at La Muette for the inoculation of her 

1 ' ' The well-known antagonism between Marie Antoinette and Madame 
de Genlis dated," says Madame Campan, "from the birth of the Dauphin, 
when the Duchesse de Chartres made the authoress's excuses for not appear- 
ing to offer her congratulations ; indisposition had prevented her. The 
Queen replied that the Duchesse de Chartres would have caused an apology 
to be made in such a case ; that the celebrity of Madame de Genlis might 
have occasioned her absence to be noticed ; but that she was not of a rank 
to send an apology for it. This proceeding on the part of the Princess, 
influenced by the talents of the governess of her children, proves that at 
the time she still desired the regard and the friendship of the Queen ; and 
from this moment unfavourable reflections on the habits and inclinations 
of the sovereign, and sharp criticisms on the works and the conduct of the 
female author, were continually interchanged between Marie Antoinette 
and Madame de Genlis." 



GOVERNESS TO THE ROYAL CHILDREN 149 

daughter. She sent for me, and condescended to say she 
wished to converse with me about a scheme which dehghted 
her, but in the execution of which she foresaw some incon- 
veniences. Her plan was to appoint the Duchesse de 
Pohgnac to the office lately held by the Princesse de 
Guemenee. She saw with extreme pleasure the facilities 
which this appointment would give her for superintending 
the education of her children, without running any risk of 
hurting the pride of the governess ; and that it would bring 
together the objects of her warmest affections — her children 
and her friend. " The friends of the Duchesse de Polignac," 
continued the Queen, " will be gratified by the splendour 
and importance conferred by the employment. As to the 
Duchess, I know her ; the place by no means suits her 
simple and quiet habits, nor the sort of indolence of her 
disposition. She will give me the greatest possible proof of 
her devotion if she yields to my wish." The Queen also 
spoke of the Princesse de Chimay and the Duchesse de 
Duras, whom the public pointed out as fit for the post ; but 
she thought the Princesse de Chimay's piety too rigid ; and 
as to the Duchesse de Duras, her wit and learning quite 
frightened her. What the Queen dreaded as the con- 
sequence of her selection of the Duchesse de Polignac was 
principally the jealousy of the courtiers ; but she showed so 
lively a desire to see her scheme executed that I had no 
doubt she would soon set at nought all the obstacles she 
discovered. I was not mistaken : a few days afterwards 
the Duchesse was appointed governess. 

The Queen's object in sending for me was no doubt to 
furnish me with the means of explaining the feelings which 
induced her to prefer a governess disposed by friendship to 
suffer her to enjoy all the privileges of a mother. Her 
Majesty knew that I saw a great deal of company. 

The Queen frequently dined with the Duchess after 



I50 • PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

having been present at the King's private dinner. Sixty-one 
thousand francs were therefore added to the salary of the 
governess as a compensation for this increase of expense. 

The Queen was tired of the excursions to Marly, and 
had no great difficulty in setting the King against them. 
He did not like the expense of them, for everybody was 
entertained there gratis. Louis XIV. had established a 
kind of parade upon these excursions, differing from that of 
Versailles, but still more annoying. Card and supper 
parties occurred every day, and required much dress. On 
Sundays and hoKdays the fountains played, the people were 
admitted into the gardens, and there was as great a crowd 
as at th.^ fetes of Saint Cloud. 

Every age has its peculiar colouring ; Marly showed that 
of Louis XIV. even more than Versailles. Everything in 
the former place appeared to have been produced by the 
magic power of a fairy's wand. Not the slightest trace of 
all this splendour remains ; the revolutionary spoilers even 
tore up the pipes which served to supply the fountains. 
Perhaps a brief description of this palace and the usages 
established there by Louis XIV. may be acceptable. 

The very extensive gardens of Marly ascended almost 
imperceptibly to the Pavilion of the Sun, which was occupied 
only by the King and his family. The pavilions of the 
twelve zodiacal signs bounded the two sides of the lawn. 
They were connected by bowers impervious to the rays of 
the sun. The pavilions nearest to that of the sun were 
reserved for the Princes of the blood and the ministers; 
the rest were occupied by persons holding superior officcf' 
at Court, or invited to stay at Marly. Each pavilion was 
named after fresco paintings, which covered its walls, and 
which had been executed by the most celebrated artists of 
the age of Louis XIV. On a line with the upper pavilion 
there was on the left a chapel ; on the right a pavilion 



COURT LIFE AT MARLY 151 

called La Perspective, which concealed a long suite of 
offices, containing a hundred lodging-rooms intended for the 
persons belonging to the service of the Court, kitchens, and 
spacious dining-rooms, in which more than thirty tables 
were splendidly laid out. 

During half Louis XV.'s reign the ladies still wore the 
hahit de cour de Marly ^ so named by Louis XIV., and 
which differed little from that devised for Versailles. The 
French gown, gathered in the back, and with great hoops, 
replaced this dress, and continued to be worn till the end 
of the reign of Louis XVI. The diamonds, feathers, rouge, 
and embroidered stuffs spangled with gold, effaced all trace 
of a rural residence ; but the people loved to see the splen- 
dour of their sovereign and a brilliant Court glittering in 
the shades of the woods. 

After dinner, and before the hour for cards, the Queen, 
the Princesses, and their ladies, paraded among the clumps 
of trees, in little carriages, beneath canopies richly em- 
broidered with gold, drawn by men in the King's livery. 
The trees planted by Louis XIV. were of prodigious height, 
which, however, was surpassed in several of the groups by 
fountains of the clearest water ; while, among others, cascades 
over white marble, the waters of which, met by the sun- 
beams, looked like draperies of silver gauze, formed a 
contrast to the solemn darkness of the groves. 

In the evening nothing more was necessary for any well- 
dressed man to procure admission to the Queen's card-parties 
than to be named and presented, by some officer of the 
Court, to the gentleman usher of the card-room. This 
room, which was very large, and of octagonal shape, rose to 
the top of the Italian roof, and terminated in a cupola 
furnished with balconies, in which females who had not 
been presented easily obtained leave to place themselves, 
and enjoy the sight of the brilliant assemblage. 



152 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Though not of the number of persons belonging to the 
Court, gentlemen admitted into this salon might request one 
of the ladies seated with the Queen at lansquenet or faro to 
bet upon her cards with such gold or notes as they presented 
to her. Rich people and the gamblers of Paris did not 
miss one of the evenings at the Marly salon^ and there were 
always considerable sums won and lost. Louis XVI. hated 
high play, and very often showed displeasure when the loss 
of large sums was mentioned. The fashion of wearing a 
black coat without being in mourning had not then been 
introduced, and the King gave a few of his coups de boutoir 
to certain chevaliers de Saint Louis, dressed in this manner, 
who came to venture two or three louis, in the hope that 
fortune would favour the handsome duchesses who deigned 
to place them on their cards. ^ 

Singular contrasts are often seen amidst the grandeur of 
courts. In order to manage such high play at the Queen's 
faro table, it was necessary to have a banker provided with 
large sums of money ; and this necessity placed at the table, 
to which none but the highest titled persons were admitted 
in general, not only M. de Chalabre, who was its banker, 
but also a retired captain of foot, who officiated as his 
second. A word, trivial, but perfectly appropriate to ex- 
press the manner in which the Court was attended there, 
was often hetird. Gentlemen presented at Court, who had 
not been invited to stay at Marly, came there notwithstanding 
as they did to Versailles, and returned again to Paris ; under 

1 Bachaumont in his Memoirs (tome xii. p. 189), which are often 
satirical, and always somewhat questionable, speaks of the singular pre- 
cautions taken at play at Court. "The bankers at the Queen's table," 
says he, "in order to prevent the mistakes [I soften the harshness of his | 
expression] which daily happen, have obtained permission from her Majesty* 
that before beginning to play the table shall be bordered by a ribbon 
entirely round it, and that no other money than that upon the cards beyond 
the ribbon shall be considered as staked. ' ' — Note by the Editor. 



SIMPLICITY MADE FASHIONABLE 153 

such circumstances, it was said such a one had been to 
Marly only en polisson ;'^ and it appeared odd to hear a 
captivating marquis, in answer to the inquiry whether he 
was of the royal party at Marly, say, " No, I am only here 
en polisson ;" meaning simply "I am here on the footing of 
all those whose nobility is of a later date than 1400." The 
Marly excursions were exceedingly expensive to the King. 
Besides the superior tables, those' of the almoners, equerries, 
maitres d^ hotels etc. etc., were all supplied with such a 
degree of magnificence as to allow of inviting strangers to 
them ; and almost all the visitors from Paris were boarded 
at the expense of the Court. 

The personal frugality of the unfortunate Prince who 
sank beneath the weight of the national debts thus favoured 
the Queen's predilection for her Petit Trianon \ and for five 
or six years preceding the Revolution the Court very seldom 
visited Marly. 

The King, always attentive to the comfort of his family, 
gave Mesdames, his aunts, the use of the Chateau de 
Bellevue, and afterwards purchased the Princesse de 
Guemenee's house, at the entrance to Paris, for Madame 
Elizabeth.^ The Comtesse de Provence bought a small 
house at Montreuil ; Monsieur already had Brunoy ; the 
Comtesse d'Artois built Bagatelle; Versailles became, in 
the. estimation of all the royal family, the least agreeable of 
residences. They only fancied themselves at home in the 
plainest houses, surrounded by English gardens, where they 
better enjoyed the beauties of nature. The taste for 
cascades and statues was entirely past. 

^ A contemptuous expression, meaning literally " as a scamp" or 
" rascal." 

^ Madame Elizabeth had this house for several years ; but the King 
arranged that she should not sleep there, until she was twenty-five years of 
age. The Revolution broke out before that time. — Madame Campati. 



154 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

The Queen occasionally remained a whole month at 
Petit Trianon, and had established there all the ways of 
life in a chateau. She entered the sitting-room without 
driving the ladies from their pianoforte or embroidery. The 
gentlemen continued their billiards or backgammon without 
suffering her presence to interrupt them. There was but 
little room in the small Chateau of Trianon. Madame Eliza- 
beth accompanied the Queen there, but the ladies of honour 
and ladies of the Palace had no establishment at Trianon. 
When invited by the Queen, they came from Versailles to 
dinner. The King and Princes came regularly to sup. A 
white gown, a gauze kerchief, and a straw hat were the uni- 
form dress of the Princesses.^ Examining all the manu- 
factories of the hamlet, seeing the cows milked, and fishing 
in the lake delighted the Queen ; and every year she showed 
increased aversion to the pompous excursions to Marly. 

The idea of acting comedies, as was then done in almost 
all country houses, followed on the Queen's wish to live at 
Trianon without ceremony.^ It was agreed that no young 

1 The extreme simplicity of the Queen's toilet began to be strongly- 
censured, at first among the courtiers, and afterwards throughout the 
kingdom ; and through one of those inconsistencies more common in 
France than elsewhere, while the Queen was blamed, she was blindly 
imitated. There was not a woman but would have the same undr^s, the 
same cap, and the same feathers as she had been seen to wear. They 
crowded to Mademoiselle Bertin, her milhner ; there was an absolute 
revolution in the dress of our ladies, which gave importance to that woman. 
Long trains, and all those fashions which confer a certain nobility on dress, 
were discarded ; and at last a duchess could not be distinguished from an 
actress. The men caught the mania ; the upper classes had long before* 
given up to their lacqueys feathers, tufts of ribbon, and laced hats, Thejil 
now got rid of red heels and embroidery ; and walked about our streets ini 
plain cloth, short thick shoes, and with knotty cudgels in their hands. 
Many humiliating scrapes were the consequence of this metamorphosis. 
Bearing no mark to distinguish them from the common herd, some of the 
lowest classes got into quarrels with them, in which the nobles had not 
always the best of it. — Montjoie's History of Marie Antoinette. 

2 The Queen got through the characters she assumed indifferently 



' ' RO YALL Y ILL PL A YED / " 155 

man except the Comte d'Artois should be admitted into 
the company of performers, and that the audience should 
consist only of the King, Monsieur, and the Princesses, who 
did not play ; but, in order to stimulate the actors a little, 
the first boxes were to be occupied by the readers, the 
Queen's ladies, their sisters and daughters, making altogether 
about forty persons.^ 

The Queen laughed heartily at the voice of M, d'Adhemar, 
formerly a very fine one, but latterly become rather tremu- 
lous. His shepherd's dress in Colin, in the Devin du 
Village^ contrasted very ridiculously with his time of life, 
and the Queen said it would be difficult for malevolence 
itself to find anything to criticise in the choice of such a 
lover. The King was highly amused with these plays, and 
was present at every performance. Caillot, a celebrated 

enough ; she could hardly be ignorant of this, as her performances 
evidently excited little pleasure. Indeed, one day while she was thus ex- 
hibiting, somebody ventured to say, by no means inaudibly, ' ' Well, this 
is royally ill played/ " The lesson was thrown away upon her, for never 
did she sacrifice to the opinion of another that which she thought per- 
missible. When she was told that her extreme plainness in dress, the 
nature of her amusements, and her dislike to that splendour which ought 
always to attend a queen, had an appearance of levity, which was mis- 
interpreted by a portion of the public, she replied with Madame de 
Maintenon : " I am upon the stage, and of course I shall be either hissed 
or applauded. " Louis XIV. had a similar taste; he danced upon the 
Stage ; but he had shown by brilliant actions that he knew how to enforce 
respect ; and besides, he unhesitatingly gave up the amusement from the 
moment he heard those beautiful lines in which Racine pointed out how 
very unworthy of him such pastimes were. — History of Marie Antoinette, 
by Montjoie. 

1 La Gageure Imprivue was one of the pieces performed at Trianon, 
The Queen played the part of Gotte, the Comtesse Diana that of Madame 
de Clairville, Madame Elizabeth the young woman, and the Comte 
d'Artois one of the men's characters. Colette, in the Devin du Village, 
was really very well played by the Queen. They performed also in the 
course of the following seasons, Le Roi et le Fermier ; Rose et Colas ; le 
Sorcier ; V Anglais a Bourdeaux : On ne s' avise jamais de tout ; le Barbier 
de Seville, etc. — Madame Campari. 



156 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

actor, who had long quitted the stage, and Dazincourt, both 
of acknowledged good character, were selected to give 
lessons, the first in comic opera, of which the easier sorts 
were preferred, and the second in comedy. The office of 
hearer of rehearsals, prompter, and stage manager was given 
to my father-in-law. The Due de Fronsac, first gentleman 
of the chamber, was much hurt at this. He thought him- 
self called upon to make serious remonstrances upon the 
subject, and wrote to the Queen, who made him the following 
answer : " You cannot be first gentleman when we are the 
actors. Besides, I have already intimated to you my 
determination respecting Trianon. I hold no court there, 
I live like a private person, and M. Campan shall be always 
employed to execute orders relative to the private /^/^^ I 
choose to give there." This not putting a stop to the 
Duke's remonstrances, the King was obliged to interfere. 
The Duke continued obstinate, and insisted that he was 
entitled to manage the private amusements as much as 
those which were public. It became absolutely necessary 
to end the argument in a positive manner. 

The diminutive Due de Fronsac never failed, when he 
came to pay his respects to the Queen at her toilette, to 
turn the conversation upon Trianon, in order to make some 
ironical remarks on my father-in-law, of whom, from the. 
time of his appointment, he always spoke as "my colleaguel 
Campan." The Queen would shrug her shoulders, and say,| 
when he was gone, " It is quite shocking to find so little a^ 
man in the son of the Marechal de Richelieu." 

So long as no strangers were admitted to the perform* 
ances they were but little censured ; but the praise obtained 
by the performers made them look for a larger circle of 
admirers. The company, for a private company, was good 
enough, and the acting was applauded to the skies ; never- 
theless, as the audience withdrew, adverse criticisms were 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN AT COURT 157 

occasionally heard. The Queen permitted the officers of 
the Body Guards and the equerries of the King and Princes 
to be present at the plays. Private boxes were provided 
for some of the people belonging to the Court ; a few more 
ladies were invited ; and claims arose on all sides for the 
favour of admission. The Queen refused to admit the 
officers of the body guards of the Princes, the officers of 
the King's Cent Suisses, and many other persons, who were 
highly mortified at the refusal. 

While delight at having given an heir to the throne of 
the Bourbons, and a succession of fetes and amusements 
filled up the happy days of Marie Antoinette, the public 
was engrossed by the Anglo-American war. Two kings, 
or rather their ministers, planted and propagated the love 
of liberty in the new world : the King of England, by 
shutting his ears and his heart against the continued and 
respectful representations of subjects at a distance from 
their native land, who had become numerous, rich, and 
powerful, through the resources of the soil they had fertilised ; 
and the King of France, by giving support to this people 
in rebelhon against their ancient sovereign. Many young 
soldiers, belonging to the first families of the country, 
followed La Fayette's example, and forsook luxury, amuse- 
ment, and love, to go and tender their aid to the revolted 
Americans. Beaumarchais, secretly seconded by Messieurs 
de Maurepas and de Vergennes, obtained permission to 
send out supplies of arms and clothing. Franklin appeared 
at Court in the dress of an American agriculturist. His 
unpowdered hair, his round hat, his brown cloth coat, 
formed a contrast to the laced and embroidered coats and 
the powder and perfume of the courtiers of Versailles. 
This novelty turned the light heads of the Frenchwomen. 
Elegant entertainments were given to Dr. Franklin, who, to 
the reputation of a man of science, added the patriotic 



158 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

virtues which invested him with the character of an apostle 
of Hberty. I was present at one of these entertainments, 
when the most beautiful woman out of three hundred was 
selected to place a crown of laurels upon the white head of 
the American philosopher, and two kisses upon his cheeks. 
Even in the Palace of Versailles Franklin's medallion was 
sold under the King's eyes, in the exhibition of Sevres 
porcelain. The legend of this medalhon was : 

" Eripuit coelo ficlmeit, sceptrumque tyrannis." 

The King never declared his opinion upon an enthusiasm 
which his correct judgment no doubt led him to blame. 
The Queen spoke out more plainly about the part France 
was taking respecting the independence of the American 
colonies, and constantly opposed it. Far was she from 
foreseeing that a revolution at such a distance could excite 
one in which a misguided populace would drag her from 
her palace to a death equally unjust and cruel. She only 
saw something ungenerous in the method which France 
adopted of checking the power of England. 

However, as Queen of France, she enjoyed the sight of 
a whole people rendering homage to the prudence, courage, 
and good qualities of a young Frenchman ; and she shared 
the enthusiasm inspired by the conduct and military success 
of the Marquis de La Fayette. The Queen granted him 
several audiences on his first return from America, and, 
until the loth of August, on which day my house was 
plundered, I preserved some lines from Gaston and Bayard, 
in which the friends of M. de La Fayette saw the exact 
outline of his character, written by her own hand : — 

. . . "Why talk of youth, 
When all the ripe experience of the old 
Dwells with him ? In his schemes profomid and cool, 
He acts with wise precaution, and reserves 
For time of action his impetuous fire. 



FRENCH S YMPA THY WITH AMERICA 1 59 

To guard the camp, to scale the leaguered wall, 
Or dare the hottest of the fight, are toils 
That suit th' impetuous bearing of his youth ; 
Yet like the gray-hair'd veteran he can shun 
The field of peril. Still before my eyes 
I place his bright example, for I love 
His lofty courage, and his prudent thought. 
Gifted like him, a warrior has no age. " ^ 

These lines had been applauded and encored at the French 
theatre ; everybody's head was turned. There was no class 
of persons that did not heartily approve of the support 
given openly by the French Government to the cause of 
American independence. The constitution planned for the 
new nation was digested at Paris, and while liberty, equality, 
and the rights of man were commented upon by the Con- 
dorcets, Baillys, Mirabeaus, etc., the minister Segur published 
the King's edict, which, by repealing that of ist November 
1750, declared all officers not noble by four generations 
incapable of filling the rank of captain, and denied all 
military rank to the roturiers, excepting sons of the cheva- 
liers de Saint Louis. ^ The injustice and absurdity of this 

^ During the American war a general ofBcer in the service of the United 
States advanced with a score of men under the English batteries to recon- 
noitre their position. His aide-de-camp, struck by a ball, fell at his side. 
The officers and orderly dragoons fled precipitately. The general, though 
under the fire of the cannon, approached the wounded man to see whether 
any help could be afforded him. Finding the wound had been mortal, he 
slowly rejoined the group which had got out of the reach of the cannon. 
This instance of courage and humanity took place at the battle of Mon- 
mouth. General Clinton, who commanded the English troops, knew that 
I the Marquis de La Fayette generally rode a white horse ; it was upon a 
[white horse that the general officer who retired, so slowly was mounted ; 
• Clinton desired the gunners not to fire. This noble forbearance probably 
saved M. de La Fayette's life, for he it was. At that time he was but 
twenty-two years of age. — Historical Anecdotes of the Reign of Louis XVI . 
^ M. de S6gur," says Chamfort, "having published an ordinance which 
prohibited the admission of any other than gentlemen into the artillery 
3orps, and, on the other hand, none but well-educated persons being 



i6o PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

law was no doubt a secondary cause of the Revolution. 
To understand the despair and rage with which this law 
inspired the tiers -Hat one should have belonged to that 
honourable class. The provinces were full of roturier 
families, who for ages had lived as people of property upon 
their own domains, and paid the taxes. If these persons 
had several sons, they would place one in the King's service, 
one in the Church, .another in the Order of Malta as a 
chevaliei' sefvent d'ar?nes, and one in the magistracy ; while 
the eldest preserved the paternal manor, and if he were 
situated in a country celebrated for wine he would, besides 
selling his own produce, add a kind of commission trade in 
the wines of the canton. I have seen an individual of this 
justly respected class, who had been long employed in 
diplomatic business, and even honoured with the title of 
minister plenipotentiary, the son-in-law and nephew of 
colonels and town mayors, and, on his mother's side, 
nephew of a lieutenant-general with a cordon rouge, unable^ 
to introduce his sons as sous-lieutenants into a regiment o^ 
foot. 

Another decision of the Court, which could not be 
announced by an edict, was that all ecclesiastical benefices, 
from the humblest priory up to the richest abbey, should 
in future be appanages of the nobility. Being the son of 
a village surgeon, the Abbe de Vermond, who had great 
influence in the disposition of benefices, was particularly 
struck with the justice of this decree. 

During the absence of the Abbe in an excursion he made 
for his health, I prevailed on the Queen to write a posP" 
script to the petition of a cure, one of my friends, who 

proper for admission, a curious scene took place : the Abbd Bossat, ex- I 
aminer of the pupils, gave certificates only to plebeians, while Cherin gave 
them only to gentlemen. Out of one hundred pupils, there were not above 
four or five who were qualified in both respects." 



AN ABBE ON CHURCH REVENUES i6i 

was soliciting a priory near his curacy, with the intention 
of retiring to it. I obtained it for him. On the Abbe's 
return he told me very harshly that I should act in a 
manner quite contrary to the King's wishes if I again ob- 
tained such a favour; that the wealth of the Church was 
for the future to be invariably devoted to the support of 
the poorer nobility; that it was the interest of the State 
that it should be so ; and a plebeian priest, happy in a good 
curacy, had only to remain curate. 

Can we be astonished at the part shortly afterwards 
taken by the deputies of the Third Estate, when called to 
the States-General? 



II 



CHAPTER X 

Visit of the Grand Duke of Russia and his Duchess to France — Enter- 
tainment and supper at Trianon — Cardinal de Rohan — Cold 
reception given to Comte d'Haga (Gustavus III., King of 
Sweden) — Peace with England — The English flock into France 
— Conduct to be observed at Court — Mission of the Chevalier de 
Bressac to the Queen — Court of Naples — Queen Caroline — The 
Minister Acton — Debates between the 'Courts of Naples and 
Madrid — Insolent reply of the Spanish Ambassador to Queen 
Caroline — Interference of France — MM. de Segur and de Castries 
appointed ministers through the Queen's influence — Treachery of 
M. de Maurepas towards M. Necker — Appointment of M. de 
Calonne — Observations of Marie Antoinette. 

About the close of the last century several of the Northern 
sovereigns took a fancy for travelling. Christian III., King 
of Denmark, visited the Court of France in 1763, during 
the reign of Louis XV. We have seen the King of Sweden 
and Joseph II. at Versailles. The Grand Duke of Russia 
(afterwards' Paul I.), son of Catherine II., and the Princess 
of Wirtemberg, his wife, likewise resolved to visit France. 
They travelled under the titles of the Comte and Comtesse 
du Nord. They were presented on the 20th of May 1782. 
.The Queen received them with grace and dignity. On th5 
day of their arrival at Versailles they dined in private with 
the King and Queen. 

The plain unassuming appearance of Paul I. pleased 
Louis XVI. He spoke to him with more confidence and 
cheerfulness than he had done to Joseph 11. The Comtesse 



THE GRAND DUKE PAUL 163 

du Nord was not at first so successful with the Queen. 
This lady was of a fine height, very fat for her age, with all 
the German stiffness, well informed, and perhaps displaying 
her acquirements with rather too much confidence. When 
the Comte and Comtesse du Nord were presented the 
Queen was exceedingly nervous. She withdrew into her 
closet before she went into the room where she was to dine 
with the illustrious travellers, and asked for a glass of water, 
confessing "she had just experienced how much more 
difficult it was to play the part of a Queen in the presence 
of other sovereigns, or of Princes born to become so, than 
before courtiers." She soon recovered from her confusion, 
and reappeared with ease and confidence. The dinner was 
tolerably cheerful, and the conversation very animated. 

Brilliant entertainments were given at Court in honour 
of the King of Sweden and the Comte du Nord, They 
were' received in private by the King and Queen, but 
they were treated with much more ceremony than the 
Emperor, and their Majesties always appeared to me to be 
very cautious before these personages. However, the King 
one day asked the Russian Grand Duke if it were true that 
he could not rely on the fidelity of any one of those who 
accompanied him. The Prince answered him without 
hesitation, and before a considerable number of persons, 
that he should be very sorry to have with him even a 
poodle that was much attached to him, because his mother 
would take care to have it thrown into the Seine, with a 
stone round its neck, before he should leave Paris. This 
reply, which I myself heard, horrified me, whether it de- 
picted the disposition of Catherine, or only expressed the 
Prince's prejudice against her. 

The Queen gave the Grand Duke a supper at Trianon, 
and had the gardens illuminated as they had been for 
the Emperor. The Cardinal de Rohan very indiscreetly 



i64 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

ventured to introduce himself there without the Queen's 
knowledge. Having been treated with the utmost coolness 
ever since his return from Vienna, he had not dared to ask 
her himself for permission to see the illumination ; but he 
persuaded the porter of Trianon to admit him as soon as 
the Queen should have set off for Versailles, and his 
Eminence engaged to remain in the porter's lodge until all 
the carriages should have left the chateau. He did not 
keep his word, and while the porter was busy in the dis- 
charge of his duty, the Cardinal, who wore his red stockings 
and had merely thrown on a greatcoat, went down into the 
garden, and, with an air of mystery, drew up in two different 
places to see the royal family and suite pass by. 

Her Majesty was highly offended at this piece of bold- 
ness, and next day ordered the porter to be discharged. 
There was a general feeling of disgust at the Cardinal's 
conduct, and of commiseration towards the porter fbr the 
loss of his place. Affected at the misfortune of the father 
of a family, I obtained his forgiveness ; and since that time 
I have often regretted the feeling which induced me to inter- 
fere. The notoriety of the discharge of the porter of Trianon 
and the odium that circumstance would have fixed upon the 
Cardinal, would have made the Queen's dislike to him still 
more publicly known : and would probably have prevented 
the scandalous and notorious intrigue of the necklace. 

The Queen, who was much prejudiced against the King 
of Sweden, received him very coldly.^ All that was said of 
the private character of that sovereign, his connection with 
the Comte de Vergennes, from the time of the Revolution 

1 Gustavus III., King of Sweden, travelled in France under the title of 
Comte d'Haga. Upon his accession to the throne, he managed the revol- 
ution which prostrated the authority of the senate with equal skill, coolness, 
and courage. He was assassinated in 1792 at a masked ball by Ankar- 
stroem. — Note by the Editor. 



\ 



THE KING OF SWEDEN 165 

of Sweden, in 1772, the character of his favourite Armsfeld, 
and the prejudices of the monarch himself against the 
Swedes who were well received at the Court of Versailles, 
formed the grounds of this dislike. He came one day 
uninvited and unexpected, and requested to dine with the 
Queen. The Queen received him in the little closet, and 
desired me to send for her clerk of the kitchen, that she 
might be informed whether there was a proper dinner to set 
before Comte d'Haga, and add to it if necessary. The 
King of Sweden assured her that there would be enough 
for him ; and I could not help smiling when I thought of 
the length of the menu of the dinner of the King and Queen, 
not half of which would have made its appearance had they 
dined in private. The Queen looked significantly at me, 
and I withdrew. In the evening she asked me why I had 
seemed so astonished when she ordered me to add to her 
dinner ; saying that I ought instantly to have seen that she 
was giving the King of Sweden a lesson for his presumption. 
I owned to her that the scene had appeared to me so much 
in the bourgeois style, that I involuntarily thought of the 
cutlets on the gridiron, and the omelette, which in famiHes 
in humble circumstances serve to piece out short commons. 
She was highly diverted with my answer, and repeated it 
to the King, who also laughed heartily at it. 

The peace with England satisfied all classes of society 
interested in the national honour. The departure of the 
English commissary from Dunkirk, who had been fixed at 
that place ever since the shameful peace of 1 763 as inspector 
of our Navy, occasioned an ecstasy of joy.^ The Government 

1 By the Treaty of Utrecht (171 3) it was stipulated that the fortifica 
tions and port of Dunkirk should be destroyed. By the Treaty of Paris 
(1763) a comm.issary was to reside at Dunkirk to see that no attempt 
was made to break this treaty. This stipulation was revoked by the 
Peace of Versailles, in 1783. — See Dyer's Modern Europe, ist Edition, 
vol. i. pp. 205-438 and 539. 



1 66 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

communicated to the Englishman the order for his departure 
before the treaty was made public. But for that precaution 
the populace would have probably committed some excess 
or other, in order to make the agent of English power feel 
the effects of the resentment which had constantly increased 
during his stay at that port. Those engaged in trade were 
the only persons dissatisfied with the treaty of 1783. That 
article which provided for the free admission of English 
goods, annihilated at one blow the trade of Rouen and the 
other manufacturing towns throughout the kingdom. The 
English swarmed into Paris. A considerable number of 
them were presented at Court. The Queen paid them 
marked attention \ doubtless she wished them to distinguish 
between the esteem she felt for their noble nation and the 
political views of the Government in the support it had 
afforded to the Americans. Discontent was, however, 
manifested at Court in consequence of the favour bestowed 
by the Queen on the English noblemen ; these attentions 
were called infatuations. This was illiberal; and the 
Queen justly complained of such absurd jealousy. 

The journey to Fontainebleau and the winter at Paris 
and at Court were extremely brilliant. The spring brought 
back those amusements which the Queen began to prefer to 
the splendour of fetes. The most perfect harmony sub- 
sisted between the King and Queen ; I never saw but one 
cloud between them. It was soon dispelled, and the cause 
of it is perfectly unknown to me. 

My father-in-law, whose penetration and experience I 
respected greatly, recommended me, when he saw me placed 
in the service of a young Queen, to shun all kinds of 
confidence. "It procures," said he, "but a very fleeting, 
and at the same time dangerous sort of favour ; serve with 
zeal to the best of your judgment, but never do more than 
obey. Instead of setting your wits to work to discover why 



THE queen's mysterious GRIEF 167 

an order or a commission which may appear of consequence 
is given to you, use them to prevent the possibihty of your 
knowing anything of the matter." I had occasion to act 
on this wise advice. One morning at Trianon I went into 
the Queen's chamber ; there were letters lying upon the bed, 
and she was weeping bitterly. Her tears and sobs were 
occasionally interrupted by exclamations of ^^ Ah f that I 
were dead I — wretches ! monsters ! What have I done to 
them .?" I offered her orange-flower water and ether. ^^ Leave 
me,'' said she, ^^ if you love me: it would be better to kill me 
at once.'^ At this moment she threw her arm over my 
shoulder and began weeping afresh. I saw that some 
weighty trouble oppressed her heart, and that she wanted 
a confidante. I suggested sending for the Duchesse de 
Polignac ; this she strongly opposed. I renewed my argu- 
ments, and her apposition grew weaker. I disengaged my- 
self from her arms, and ran to the antechamber, where I 
knew that an outrider always waited, ready to mount and 
start at a moment's warning for Versailles. I ordered him 
to go full speed, and tell the Duchesse de Polignac that the 
Queen was very uneasy, and desired to see her instantly. 
The Duchess always had a carriage ready. In less than ten 
minutes she was at the Queen's door. I was the only 
person there, having been forbidden to send for the other 
women. Madame de Polignac came in ; the Queen held 
out her arms to her, the Duchess rushed towards her. I 
heard her sobs renewed and withdrew. 

A quarter of an hour afterwards the Queen, who had 
become calmer, rang to be dressed. I sent her woman in ; 
sh§ put on her gown and retired to her boudoir with the 
Duchess. Very soon afterwards the Comte d'Artois arrived 
from Compiegne, where he had been with the King. He 
eagerly inquired where the Queen was ; remained half an 
hour with her and the Duchess ; and on coming out told 



i68 PRIVATE LIFE f OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

me the Queen asked for me. I found her seated on the 
couch by the side of her friend ; her features had resumed 
their usual cheerful and gracious appearance. She held out 
her hand to me, and said to the Duchess, " I know I have 
made her so uncomfortable this morning that I must set 
her poor heart at ease." She then added, " You must have 
seen, on some fine summer's day, a black cloud suddenly 
appear and threaten to pour down upon the country and 
lay it waste. The lightest wind drives it away, and the blue 
sky and serene weather are restored. This is just the 
image of what has happened to me this morning." She 
afterwards told me that the King would return from Com- 
pifegne after hunting there, and sup with her ; that I must 
send for her purveyor, to select with him from his bills of 
fare all such dishes as the King liked best ; that she would 
have no others served up in the evening at her table ; and 
that this was a mark of attention that she wished the King to 
notice. The Duchesse de Polignac also took me by the 
hand, and told me how happy she was that she had been 
with the Queen at a moment when she stood in need of a 
friend. I never knew what could have created in the 
Queen so lively and so transient an alarm ; but I guessed 
from the particular care she took respecting the King that 
attempts had been made to irritate him against her; that 
the malice of her enemies had been promptly discovered and 
counteracted by thQ King's penetration and attachment; 
and that the Comte d'Artois had hastened to bring her 
intelligence of it. 

It was, I think, in the summer of 1787, during one of 
the Trianon excursions, that the Queen of Naples ^ sent the 
Chevalier de Bressac to her Majesty on a secret mission 
relative to a projected marriage between the Hereditary 
Prince, her son, and Madame, the King's daughter; in the 

1 Caroline, sister of Marie Antoinette. 



CAROLINE, QUEEN QF NAPLES 169 

absence of the lady of honour he addressed himself to me. 
Although he said a great deal to me about the close con- 
fidence with which the Queen of Naples honoured him, and 
about his letters of credit, I thought he had the air of an 
adventurer. ^ He had, indeed, private letters for the Queen, 
and his mission was not feigned; he talked to me very 
rashly even before his admission, and entreated me to do 
all that lay in my power to dispose the Queen's mind in 
favour of his sovereign's wishes ; I declined, assuring him 
that it did not become me to meddle with State affairs. 
He endeavoured, but in vain, to prove to me that the union 
contemplated by the Queen of Naples ought not to be 
looked upon in that light. 

1 procured M. de Bressac the audience he desired, but 
without suffering myself even to seem acquainted wiih the 
object of his mission. The Queen told me what it was ; 
she thought him a person ill chosen for the occasion; and 
yet she thought that the Queen, her sister, had done wisely 
in not sending a man worthy to be avowed ; it being im- 
possible that what she solicited should take place. I had 
an opportunity on this occasion, as indeed on many others, 
of judging to what extent the Queen valued and loved 
France and the dignity of our Court. She then told me 
that Madame,^ in marrying her cousin, the Due 
d'Angouleme, would not lose her rank as daughter of the 
Queen ; and that her situation would be far preferable to 
that of Queen of any other country ; that there was nothing 
in Europe to be compared to the Court of France ; and 
that it would be necessary, in order to avoid exposing a 

^ He afterwards spent several years shut up in the Chateau de I'CEuf. 
— Madame Campan. 

2 The Princess Marie Th^rfese Charlotte, daughter of Louis XVI. , who 
married her cousin, the Due d'Angouleme, son of the Comte d'Artois, in 
1799. 



I70 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

French Princess to feelings of deep regret, in case she 
should be married to a foreign Prince, to take her from the 
Palace of Versailles at seven years of age, and send her 
immediately to the Court in which she was to dwell ; and 
that at twelve would be too late ; for recollections and com- 
parisons would ruin the happiness of all the rest of her life. 
The Queen looked upon the destiny of her sisters as far 
beneath her own ; and frequently mentioned the mortifica- 
tions inflicted by the Court of Spain upon her sister, the 
Queen of Naples ; and the necessity she was under of im- 
ploring the mediation of the King of France. 

She showed me several letters that she had received 
from the Queen of Naples relative to her differences with 
the Court of Madrid respecting the Minister Acton. She 
thought him useful to her people, inasmuch as he was a 
man of considerable information and great activity. In 
these letters she minutely acquainted her Majesty with the 
nature of the affronts she had received, and represented Mr. 
Acton to her as a man whom malevolence itself could not 
suppose capable of interesting her otherwise than by his 
services. She had had to suffer the impertinences of a 
Spaniard named Las Casas, who had been sent to her by 
the King, her father-in-law, to persuade her to dismiss Mr. 
Acton from the business of the State, and from her intimacy. 
She complained bitterly to the Queen, her sister, of the 
insulting proceedings of this charge d'affaires, whom she 
told, in order to convince him of the nature of the feelings 
which attached her to Mr. Acton, that she would have 
portraits and busts of him executed by the most eminent 
artists of Italy, and that she would then send them to the 
King of Spain, to prove that nothing but the desire to 
retain a man of superior capacity had induced her to bestow 
on him the favour he enjoyed. This Las Casas dared to 
answer her that it would be useless trouble ; that the ugli- || 



THE QUEEN'S MAD ADMIRER 171 

ness of a man did not always render him displeasing ; and 
that the King of Spain had too much experience not to know 
that there was no accounting for the caprices of a woman. 

This audacious reply filled the Queen of Naples with 
indignation, and her emotion caused her to miscarry on the 
same day. In consequence of the mediation of Louis 
XVI. the Qiieen of Naples obtained complete satisfaction, 
and Mr. Acton continued Prime Minister. 

Among the characteristics which denoted the goodness 
of the Queen, her respect for peirsonal liberty should have 
a place. I have seen her put up with the most trouble- 
some importunities from people whose minds were deranged 
rather than have them arrested. Her patient kindness was 
put to a very disagreeable trial by an ex-councillor of the 
Bordeaux Parliament, named Castelnaux ; this man declared 
himself the lover of the Qtieen, and was generally known 
by that appellation. For ten successive years did he follow 
the Court in all its excursions. Pale and wan, as people 
who are out of their senses usually are, his sinister 
appearance occasioned the most uncomfortable sensations. 
During the two hours that the Queen's public card-parties 
lasted, he would remain opposite her Majesty. He placed 
himself in the same manner before her at chapel, and never 
failed to be at the King's dinner or the dinner in public. 
At the theatre he invariably seated himself as near the 
Queen's box as possible. He always set off for Fontaine- 
bleau or Saint Cloud the day before the Court, and when 
her Majesty arrived at her various residences, the first 
person she met on getting out of her carriage was this 
melancholy madman, who never spoke to any one. When 
the Queen stayed at Petit Trianon the passion of this un- 
happy man became still more annoying. He would hastily 
swallow a morsel at some eating-house, and spend all the 
rest of the day, even when it rained, in going round and 



172 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

round the garden, always walking at the edge of the moat. 
The Queen frequently met him when she was either alone 
or with her children; and yet she would not suffer any 
violence to be used to relieve her from this intolerable 
annoyance. Having one day given M. de Seze permission 
to enter Trianon, she sent to desire he would come to me, 
and directed me to inform that celebrated advocate of M. de 
Castelnaux's derangement, and then to send for him that 
M. de Seze might have some conversation with him. He 
talked to him nearly an hour, and made considerable im- 
pression upon his mind; and at last M. de Castelnaux 
requested me to inform the Queen positively that, since his 
presence was disagreeable to her, he would retire to his^ 
province. The Queen was very much rejoiced, and desiredj 
me to express her full satisfaction to M. de Seze. Half an 
hour after M. de Seze was gone the unhappy madman was 
announced. He came to tell me that he withdrew his 
promise, that he had not sufficient command of himself to 
give up seeing the Queen as often as possible. This new 
determination was a disagreeable message to take to her 
Majesty ; but how was I affected at hearing her. say, " Well, 
let him annoy me ! but do not let him be deprived of the 
blessing of freedom." ^ 

The direct influence of the Queen on affairs during the 
earlier year's of the reign was only shown in her exertions j 
to obtain from the King a revision of the decrees in two 
celebrated causes. It was contrary to her principles to 
interfere in matters of justice, and never did she avail her- 
self of her influence to bias the tribunals. The Duchesse 

1 On the arrest of the King and Queen at Varennes, this unfortunate 
Castelnaux attempted to starve himself to death. The people in whose 
house he lived, becoming uneasy at his absence, had the door of his room 
forced open, when he was found stretched senseless on the floor. I do not ' 
know what became of him after the loth of August. — Madame Campan,- 



THE QUEEN'S RESPECT FOR THE KING 173 

de Praslin, through a criminal caprice, carried her enmity 
to her husband so far as to disinherit her children in favour 
of the family of M. de Guemenee. The Duchesse de 
Choiseul- who was warmly interested in this affair, one day 
entreated the Queen, in my presence, at least to condescend 
to ask the first president when the cause would be called 
on j the Queen replied that she could not even do that, for 
it would manifest an interest which it was her duty not to 
show. 

If the King had not inspired the Queen with a lively A 
feeling of love, it is quite certain that she yielded him re-* 
spect and affection for the goodness of his disposition and! 
the equity of which he gave so many proofs throughout his 
reign. One evening she returned very late ; she came out of 
the King's closet, and said to M. de Misery and myself, dry- 
ing her eyes, which were filled with tears, "You see me 
weeping, but do not be uneasy at it : these are the sweetest 
tears that a wife can shed ; they are caused by the impression 
which the justice and goodness of the King have made upon 
me ; he has just complied with my request for a revision of 
the proceedings against Messieurs de Bellegarde and de 
Monthieu, victims of the Due d'Aiguillon's hatred to the 
Due de Choiseul. He has been equally just to the Due de 
Guines in his affair with Tort. It is a happy thing for a 
Queen to be able to admire and esteem him who has ad- 
mitted her to a participation of his throne ; and as to you, 
I congratulate you upon your having to live under the 
sceptre of so virtuous a sovereign." 

The Queen laid before the King all the memorials of the 
Due de Guines, who, during his embassy to England, was 
involved in difficulties by a secretary, who speculated in the 
public funds in London on his own account, but in such a 
manner as to throw a suspicion of it on the ambassador. 
Messieurs de Vergennes and Turgot, bearing but little good 



174 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

will to the Due de Guines, who was the friend of the Due 
de Choiseul, were not disposed to render the ambassador any 
service. The Queen succeeded in fixing the King's par- 
ticular attention on this affair, and the innocence of the Due 
de Guines triumphed through the equity of Louis XVI. 

An incessant underhand war was carried on between the 
friends and partisans of M. de Choiseul, who were called 
the Austrians, and those who sided with Messieurs 
d Aiguillon, de Maurepas, and de Vergennes, who, for the 
same reason, kept up the intrigues carried on at Court and 
in Paris against the Queen. Marie Antoinette, on her part, 
supported those who had suffered in this political quarrel, 
and it was this feeling which led her to ask for a revision of 
the proceedings against Messieurs de Bellegarde and de 
Monthieu. The first, a colonel and inspector of artillery, 
and the second, proprietor of a foundry at Saint 6tienne, 
were, under the Ministry of the Due d' Aiguillon, condemned 
to imprisonment for twenty years and a day for having with- 
drawn from the arsenals of France, by order of the Due de 
Choiseul, a vast number of muskets, as being of no value 
except as old iron, while in point of fact the greater part of 
those muskets were immediately embarked and sold to the 
Americans. It appears that the Due de Choiseul imparted 
to the Queen, as grounds of defence for the accused, the 
political views which led him to authorise that reduction and 
sale in the manner in which it had been executed. It ren- 
dered the case of Messieurs de Bellegarde and de Monthieu 
more unfavourable that the artillery officer who made the 
reduction in the capacity of inspector was, through a clan-* 
destine marriage, brother-in-law of the owner of the foundry, 
the purchaser of the rejected arms. The innocence of the 
two prisoners was nevertheless made apparent; and they 
came to Versailles with their wives and children to throw them- 
selves at the feet of their benefactress. This affecting scene i 



THE queen's speeches 175 

took place in the grand gallery, at the entrance to the 
Queen's apartment. She wished to restrain the women 
from kneeling, saying that they had only had justice done 
them ; and that she ought to he congratulated upon the most 
substantial happiness attendant upon her station^ that of lay- 
ing just appeals before the King. 

On every occasion, when the Queen had to speak in 
public, she used the most appropriate and elegant language, 
notwithstanding the difficulty a foreigner might be expected 
to experience. She answered all addresses herself, a custom 
which she learned at the Court of Maria Theresa. The 
Princesses of the House of Bourbon had long ceased to 
take the trouble of speaking in such cases. Madame 
Adelaide blamed the Queen for not doing as they did, 
assuring her that it was quite sufficient to mutter a few words 
that might sound like an answer, while the addressers, 
occupied with what they had themselves been saying, would 
always take it for granted that a proper answer had been 
returned. The Queen saw that idleness alone dictated such 
a proceeding, and that as the practice even of muttering a 
few words showed the necessity of answering in some way, 
it must be more proper to reply simply but clearly, and in 
i the best style possible. Sometimes indeed, when apprised 
of the subject of the address, she would write down her 
:) answer in the morning, not to learn it by heart, but in 
! order to settle the ideas or sentiments she wished to intro- 
duce. 

The influence of the Comtesse de Polignac increased 
daily; and her friends availed themselves of it to effect 
changes in the ministry. The dismissal of M. de Mont- 
barrey, a man without talents or character, was generally ap- 
proved of It was rightly attributed to the Queen. He 
had been placed in administration by M. de Maurepas, and 
maintained by his aged wife ; both, of course, became more 



176 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

inveterate than ever against the Queen and the PoHgnac 
circle. 

The appointment of M. de Segur to the place of Minister 
of War, and of M. de Castries to that of Minister of Marine, 
were wholly the work of that circle. The Queen dreaded 
making ministers ; her favourite often wept when the men 
of her circle compelled her to interfere. Men blame women 
for meddling in business, and yet in courts it is continually 
the men themselves who make use of the influence of the 
women in matters with which the latter ought to have 
nothing to do. 

When M. de Segur was presented to the Queen on his 
new appointment, she said to me, " You have just seen ^ 
minister of my making. I am very glad, so far as regarc 
the King's service, that he is appointed, for I think th« 
selection a very good one ; but I ' almost regret the part 
have taken in it. I take a responsibility upon myself. I 
was fortunate in being free from any; and in order to 
relieve myself from this as much as possible I have just 
promised M. de Segur, and that upon my word of honour, 
not to back any petition, nor to hinder any of his operations 
by solicitations on behalf of my proteges P 

During the first administration of M. Necker, whose 
ambition had not then drawn him into schemes repugnant 
to his better judgment, and whose views appeared to the 
Queen to be very judicious, she indulged in hopes of the 
restoration of the finances. Knowing that M. de Maurepas 
wished to drive M. Necker to resign, she urged him to 
have patience until the death of an old man whom the King 
kept about him from a fondness for his first choice, and out 
of respect for his advanced age. She even went so far as to 
tell him that M. de Maurepas was always ill, and that his 
end could not be very distant. M. Necker would not wait 
for that event. The Queen's prediction was fulfilled. M. de j 



rdf 

1 



THE QUEEN AND M. NECKER 177 

Maurepas ended his days immediately after a journey to 
Fontainebl^ii in 1781.^ 

M. Necker had retired. He had been exasperated by a 
piece of treachery in the old minister, for which he could 
not forgive him. I knew something of this intrigue at the 
time ; it h^s sin-ce been fully explained to me by Madame 
la Ma^echale de Beauvau. M. Necker saw that his credit 
at^Court was declining, and fearing lest that circumstance 
should injure his financial operations, he requested the King 
to grant him some favour which might show the public 
that he had not lost the confidence of his sovereign. He 
concluded his letter by pointing out five requests — such an 
office, or such a mark of distinction, 01' such a badge of 
honour, and so on, and handed it to M. de Maurepas. 
The ors were changed into ands ; and the King was dis- 
pleased at M. Necker's ambition, and the assurance with 
which he displayed it. Madame la Marechale de Beauvau 
assured me that the Marechal de Castries saw the minute 
of M. Necker's letter, and that he likewise saw the altered 
copy. 

The interest which the Queen took in M. Necker died 
away during his retirement, and at last changed into strong 
prejudice against him. He wrote too much about the 
measures he would have pursued, and the benefits that 
would have resulted to the State from them. The ministers 
who succeeded him thought their operations embarrassed 
by the care that M. Necker and his partisans incessantly 
5ook to occupy the public with his plans ; his friends were 
too ardent. The Queen discerned a party spirit in these 
combinations, and sided wholly with his enemies. 

} Louis XVI. deeply regretted Maurepas. During his last illness he 
Mrtrent himself to inform him of the birth of the Dauphin, to announce it to 
kis friend and rejoice with him; these were his very expressions. The 
iay after his funeral he said, with an air of great affliction, " Ah ! I shall no 
onger hear my friend overhead every morning." — Biographic Universelle. 

12 



178 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

After those inefficient comptrollers-general, Messieurs 
Joly de Fleury and d'Ormesson, it became necessary to 
resort to a man of more acknowledged talent, and the 
Queen's friends, at that time combining with the Comte 
d'Artois and with M. de Vergennes, got M. de Calonne 
appointed. The Queen was highly displeased, and her 
close intimacy with the Duchesse de Polignac began to 
suffer for this. 

Her Majesty, continuing to converse with me upon the 
difficulties she had met with in private life, told me that 
ambitious men without merit sometimes found means to 
gain their ends by dint of importunity, and that she had to 
blame herself for having procured M. d'Adhemar's appoint- 
ment to the London Embassy, merely because he teased 
her into it at the Duchess's house. She added, however, 
that it was at a time of perfect peace with the English ; that 
the ministry knew the inefficiency of M. d'Adhemar as well 
as she did, and that he could do neither harm nor good. 

Often in conversations of unreserved frankness the Queen 
owned that she had purchased rather dearly a piece of ex- 
perience which would make her carefully watch over the 
conduct of her daughters-in-law; and that she would be 
particularly scrupulous about the qualifications of the ladies 
who might attend them ; that no consideration of rank or 
favour should bias her in so important a choice. She attri- 
buted several of her youthful mistakes to a lady of great 
levity, whom she found in her Palace on her arrival in 
France. She also determined to forbid the Princesses com- 
ing under her control the practice of singing with professors, 
and said candidly, and with as much- severity as her 
slanderers could have done, " I ought to have heard Garat 
sing, and never to have sung duets with him." 

The indiscreet zeal of Monsieur Augeard contributed to 
the public belief that the Queen disposed of all the offices of 






INDISCREET ZEAL 179 

finance. He had, without any authority for doing so, re- 
quired the committee of fenniers-general to inform him of 
all vacancies, assuring them that they would be meeting the 
wishes of the Queen. The members complied, but not 
without murmuring. When the Queen became aware of 
what her secretary had done, she highly disapproved of it, 
caused her resentment to be made known to iht fermiers- 
genh'al, and abstained from asking for appointments ; only ^ 
making one request of the kind as a marriage portion for 
one of her attendants, a young woman of good family. 



k 



CHAPTER XI 

The Queen is dissatisfied with the appointment of M. de Calonne — 
Acts of benevolence — Purchase of Saint Cloud — Regulations of 
internal police — State of France — Beaumarchais — Marriage of 
Figaro — Character of M. de Vaudreuil. 

The Queen did not sufficiently conceal the dissatisfactionf 
she felt at having been unable to prevent the appointment 
of M. de Calonne ; she even one day went so far as to say 
at the Duchess's, in the midst of the partisans and protectors 
of that minister, that the finances of France passed alternately 
from the hands of an honest man without talent into those 
of a skilful knave. M. de Calonne was thus far from acting 
in concert with the Queen all the time that he continued in 
office; and, while dull verses were circulated about Paris 
describing the Queen and her favourite dipping at pleasure 
into the coffers of the comptroller-general, the Queen was 
avoiding all communication with him. 

During the long and severe winter of 1783-4 the King 
gave three millions of livres for the relief of the indigent. 
M. de Calonne, who felt the necessity of making advances 
to the Queen, caught at this opportunity of showing her 
respect and devotion. He offered to place in her hands 
one million of the three, to be distributed in her name and 
under her direction. His proposal was rejected : the Queen 
answered that the charity ought to be wholly distributed in 
the King's name, and that she would this year debar herself 



I 



THE ROYAL CHILDREN i8i 

of even the slightest enjoyments, in order to contribute all 
her savings to the relief of the unfortunate. 

The moment M. de Calonne left the closet the Queen 
sent for me: "Congratulate me, my dear," said she; "I 
have just escaped a snare, or at least a matter which eventu- 
ally might have caused me much regret." She related the 
conversation which had taken place word for word to me, 
adding, "That man will complete the ruin of the national 
finances. It is said that I placed him in his situation. The 
people are made to believe that I am extravagant ; yet I 
have refused to suffer a sum of money from the royal 
treasury, although destined for the most laudable purpose, 
even to pass through my hands." 

The Queen making monthly retrenchments from the 
expenditure of her privy purse, and not having spent the 
gifts customary at the period of her confinement, was in 
possession of from five to six hundred thousand francs, her 
own savings. She made use of from two to three hundred 
thousand francs of this, which her first women sent to M. 
Lenoir, to the cures of Paris and Versailles, and to the 
Sxurs Hospitalieres^ and so distributed them among families 
in need. 

Desirous to implant in the breast of her daughter not 
only a desire to succour the unfortunate but those qualities 
1 necessary for the due discharge of that duty, the Queen 
: incessantly talked to her, though she was yet very young, 
Ubout the sufferings of the poor during a season so incle- 
I ment. The Princess already had a sum of from eight to ten 
(thousand francs for charitable purposes, and the Queen 
I made her distribute part of it herself. 

, Wishing to give her children yet another lesson of bene- 

*::ficence, she desired me on New Year's eve to get from 

Paris,- as in other years, all the fashionable playthings, and 

iiave them spread out in her closet. Then taking her 



b. 



i82 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

children by the hand she showed them all the dolls and 
mechanical toys which were ranged there, and told them 
that she had intended to give them some handsome New 
Year's gifts, but that the cold made the poor so wretched 
that all her money was spent in blankets and clothes to 
protect them from the rigour of the season, and in supplying 
them with bread ; so that this year they would only have 
the pleasure of looking at the new playthings. When she 
returned with her children into her sitting-room, she said 
there was still an unavoidable expense to be incurred ; that 
assuredly many mothers would at that season think as she 
did ; that the toyman must lose by it ; and therefore she 
gave him fifty louis to repay him for the cost of his journey, 
and console him for having sold nothing. 

The purchase of Saint Cloud, a matter very simple in 
itself, had, on account of the prevailing spirit, unfavourable 
consequences to the Queen. 

The Palace of Versailles, pulled to pieces in the interior 
by a variety of new arrangements, and mutilated in point of 
uniformity by the removal of the ambassadors' staircase, and 
of the peristyle of columns placed at the end of. the marble 
court, was equally in want of substantial and ornamental 
repair. The King therefore desired M. Micque to lay before 
him several plans for the repairs of the Palace. He con- 
sulted me on certain arrangements analogous to some of 
those adopted in the Queen's establishment, and in my 
presence asked M. Micque how much money would be 
wanted for the execution of the whole work, and how many 
years he would be in completing it. I forget how many 
millions were mentioned : M. Micque replied that six years 
would be sufficient time if the Treasury made the necessary 
periodical advances without any delay. " And how many 
years shall you require," said the King, "if the advances 
are not punctually made?" — "Ten, Sire," replied the 



PURCHASE OF SAINT CLOUD 183 

architect. "We must then reckon upon ten years," said 
his Majesty, "and put off this great undertaking until the 
year 1790; // will occupy the rest of the century.^'' The 
King afterwards talked of the depreciation of property which 
took place at Versailles whilst the Regent removed the 
Court of Louis XV. to the Tuileries, and said that he must 
consider how to prevent that inconvenience ; it was the 
desire to do this that promoted the purchase of Saint Cloud. 
The Queen first thought of it one day when she was riding 
out with the Duchesse de Polignac and the Comtesse 
Diana; she mentioned it to the King, who was much 
pleased with the thought ; the purchase confirming him in 
the intention, which he had entertained for ten years, of 
quitting Versailles. 

The King determined that the ministers, public officers, 
pages, and a considerable part of his stabling should remain 
at Versailles. Messieurs de Breteuil and de Calonne were 
instructed to treat with the Due d'Orleans for the purchase 
of Saint Cloud ; at first they hoped to be able to conclude 
the business by a mere exchange. The value of the 
Chateau de Choisy, de la Muette, and a forest, was equiva- 
lent to the sum demanded by the House of Orleans ; and 
in the exchange which the Queen expected she only saw a 
saving to be made instead of an increase of expense. By 
this arrangement the government of Choisy, in the hands of 
the Due de Coigny, and that of La Muette, in the hands of 
the Marechal de Soubise, would be suppressed. At the 
same time the two concierges^ and all the servants employed 
in these two royal houses, would be reduced ; but while the 
treaty was going forward Messieurs de Breteuil and de 
Calonne gave up the point of exchange, and some millions 
in cash were substituted for Choisy and La Muette. 

The Queen advised the King to give her Saint Cloud, 
as a means of avoiding the establishment of a governor ; 



i84 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

her plan being to have merely a conciei'ge there, by which 
means the governor's expenses would be saved. The King 
agreed, and Saint Cloud was purchased for the Queen. 
She provided the same liveries for the porters at the gates 
and servants at the chateau as for those at Trianon. The 
concierge at the latter place had put up some regulations for 
the household, headed: ^^ By order of the Queen." The 
same thing was done at Saint Cloud. The Queen's livery 
at the door of a palace where it was expected none but that 
of the King would be seen, and the words " By order of the 
Queen " at the head of the printed papers pasted near the 
iron gates, caused a great sensation, and produced a very 
unfortunate effect, not only among the common people but 
also among persons of a superior class. They saw in it an 
attack upon the customs of monarchy, and customs ar§ 
nearly equal to laws. The Queen heard of this, but she 
thought that her dignity would be compromised if she made 
any change in the form of these regulations, though they 
might have been altogether superseded without inconveni- 
ence. "My name is not out of place," said she, "in 
gardens belonging to myself; I may give orders there 
without infringing on the rights of the State." This was 
her only answer to the representations which a few faithfi 
servants ventured to make on the subject. The disconten 
of the Parisians on this occasion probably induced M 
d'Espremenil, upon the first troubles about the Parliament, 
to say that it was impolitic and immoral to see palaces 
belonging to a Queen of France. ^ 

1 The Queen never forgot this affront of M. d'Espremenil' s ; she sai'd 
that as it was offered at a time when social order had not yet been dis- 
turbed, she had felt the severest mortification at it. Shortly before the down- 
fall of the throne M. d'Espremenil, having openly espoused the King's side, 
was insulted in the gardens of the Tuileries by the Jacobins, and so ill 
treated that he was carried home very ill. Somebody recommended the I 
Queen, on account of the royalist principles he then professed, to send and 



as 

1 



PEACE WITH ENGLAND 185 

The Queen was very much dissatisfied with the manner 
in which M. de Calonne had managed this matter. The 
Abbe de Vermond, the most active and persevering of that 
minister's enemies, saw with dehght that the expedients of 
those from whom alone new resources might be expected 
were gradually becoming exhausted, because the period 
when the Archbishop of Toulouse would be placed over 
the finances was thereby hastened. 

The royal navy had resumed an imposing attitude during 
the war for the independence of America ; a glorious peace 
with England had compensated for the former attacks of our 
enemies upon the fame of France; and the throne was 
surrounded by numerous heirs. The sole ground of uneasi- 
ness was in the finances, but that uneasiness related only to 
the manner in which they were administered. In a word, 
France felt confident in its own strength and resources, 
when two events, which seem scarcely worthy of a place in 
history, but which have nevertheless an important one in 
that of the French Revolution, introduced a spirit of ridicule 
and contempt, not only against the highest ranks, but even 
against the most august personages. I allude to a comedy 
and a great swindling transaction. 

Beaumarchais had long possessed a reputation in certain 
circles in Paris for his wit and musical talents, and at the 
theatres for dramas more or less indifferent, when his Barber 
of Seville procured him a higher position among dramatic 
writers. His Memoirs against M. Goesman had amused 
Paris by the ridicule they threw upon a Parliament which 
was disliked ; and his admission to an intimacy with M. de 
Maurepas procured him a degree of influence over im- 
portant affairs. He then became ambitious of influencing 

■inquire for him. She replied that she was truly grieved at what had 
happened to M. d'Espr^menil, but that mere pohcy should never induce her 
4o show any particular solicitude about the man who had been the first to 
'make so insulting an attack upon her character, — Madame Campaii. 



i86 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

public opinion by a kind of drama, in which established 
manners and customs should be held up to popular derision 
and the ridicule of the new philosophers. After several 
years of prosperity the minds of the French had become 
more generally critical ; and when Beaumarchais had finished 
his monstrous but diverting Marriage of Figaro all ' people 
of any consequence were eager for the gratification of hearing 
it read, the censors having decided that it should not be 
performed. These readings of Figa^'o grew so numerous 
that people were daily heard to say, " I have been (or I am 
going to be) at the reading of Beaumarchais's play." The 
desire to see it performed became universal : an expression 
that he had the art to use compelled, as it were, the appro- 
bation of the nobility, or of persons in power, who aimed ats 
ranking among the magnanimous ; he made his Figaro say 
that " none but little 7?iinds dreaded little books ^ The Baron 
de Breteuil, and all the men of Madame de.Polignac's circle,! 
entered the lists as the warmest protectors of the comedy.! 
Solicitations to the King became so pressing that his Majesty* 
determined to judge for himself of a work which so much 
engrossed public attention, and desired me to. ask M. Le 
Noir, lieutenant of police, for the manuscript of the 
Marriage of Figaro. One morning I received a note from 
the Queen ordering me to be with her at three o'clock, and 
not to come without having dined, for she should detain me 
some time. When I got to the Queen's inner closet I 
found her alone with the King ; a chair and a small table , 
were ready placed opposite to them, and upon the table lay 
an enormous manuscript in several books. The King said 
to me, "There is Beaumarchais's comedy; you must read it 
to us. You will find several parts troublesome on account 
of the erasures and references. I have already run it over, 
but I wish the Queen to be acquainted with the work. 
You will not mention this reading to any one." 



ROYAL CRITICS 187 



I began. The King frequently interrupted me by praise 
or censure, which was always just. He frequently exclaimed, 
" That's in bad taste ; this man continually brings the Italian 
concetti on the stage." At that soliloquy of Figaro in which 
he attacks various points of government, and especially at 
the tirade against State prisons, the King rose up and said 
indignantly, " That's detestable ; that shall never be played ; 
the Bastille must be destroyed before the licence to act this 
play can be any other than an act of the most dangerous 
inconsistency. This man scoffs at everything that should 
be respected in a government." " It will not be played, 
then?" said the Queen. "No, certainly," replied Louis 
XVI. ; " you may rely upon that." 

Still it was constantly reported that Figaro was about to 
be performed j there were even wagers laid upon the subject ; 
I never should have laid any myself, fancying that I was 
better informed as to the probability than anybody else ; if 
I had, however, I should have been completely deceived. 
The protectors of Beaumarchais, feeling certain that they 
would succeed in their scheme of making his work public 
in spite of the King's prohibition, distributed the parts in 
the Marriage of Figaro among the actors of the Theatre 
Frangais. Beaumarchais had made them enter into the 
spirit of his characters, and they determined to enjoy at 
least one performance of this so-called chef d'oiuvre. The 
first gentleman of the chamber agreed that M. de la Ferte 
should lend the theatre of the Hotel des Menus Plaisirs, at 
Paris, which was used for rehearsals of the opera ; tickets 
were distributed to a vast number of leaders of society ; and 
the day for the performance was fixed. The King heard of 
all this only on the very morning, and signed a lettre de 
cachet} which prohibited the performance. When the 

"^ A lettre de cachet was any written order proceeding from the King". 
The term was not confined merely to orders for arrest. — Madame Campan. 



1 88 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

messenger who brought the order arrived, he found a part 
of the theatre already filled with spectators, and the streets 
leading to the Hotel des Menus Plaisirs filled with carriages ; 
the piece was not performed. This prohibition of the 
King's was looked upon as an attack on public liberty. 

The disappointment produced such discontent that the 
words oppressio7i and tyranny were uttered with no less 
passion and bitterness at that time than during the days 
which immediately preceded the downfall of the throne. 
Beaumarchais was so far put off his guard by rage as to 
exclaim, " Well, gentlemen, he won't suffer it to be played 
here ; but I swear it shall be played — perhaps in the very 
choir of Notre Dame ! " There was something prophetic in 
these words.-"- ' It was generally insinuated shortly afterwards 
that Beaumarchais had determined to suppress all those 
parts of his work which could be obnoxious to Government ; 
and on pretence of judging of the sacrifices made by the 
author, M. de Vaudreuil obtained permission to have this 
far-famed Marriage of Figaro performed at his country 
house. M. Campan was asked there ; he had frequently 
heard the work read, and did not now find the . alterations 
that had been announced; this he observed to several 
persons belonging to the Court, who maintained that the 
author had made all the sacrifices required. M. Campan 
was so astonished at these persistent assertions of an obvious 
falsehood that he replied by a quotation from Beaumarchais 
himself, and assuming the tone of Basilio in the Barber of 
Seville, he said, " Faith, gentlemen, I don't know who is 
deceived here ; everybody is in the secret." They then' 
came to the point, and begged him to tell the Queen 

^ The Keeper of the Seals had constantly opposed the performance of 
this play. The King said in his presence one day, ' ' You -will see that 
Beaumarchais will have more -weight than the Keeper of the Seals." — Note I 
by the Editor. 



I 



" THE MARRIAGE OF FIGARO'' 189 

positively that all which had been pronounced reprehensible 
in M. de Beaumarchais's play had been cut out. My father- 
in-law contented himself with replying that his situation at 
Court would not allow of his giving an opinion unless the 
Queen should first speak of the piece to him. The Queen 
said nothing to him about the matter. Shortly afterwards 
permission to perform this play was at length obtained. 
The Queen thought the people of Paris would be finely 
tricked when they saw merely an ill-conceived piece, devoid 
of interest, as it must appear when deprived of its satire.^ 
Under the persuasion that there was not a passage left 
capable of malicious or dangerous application, Monsieur 
attended the first performance in a public box. The mad 
enthusiasm of the public in favour of the piece and 
Monsieur's just displeasure are well known. The author 
was sent to prison soon afterwards, though his work was 
extolled to the skies, and though the Court durst not 
suspend its performance. 

^ "The King," says Grimm, "made sure that the public would judge 
unfavourably of the work. He said to the Marquis de Montesquiou, who 
was going to see the first representation, ' Well, what do you augur of its 
success?' 'Sire, I hope the piece will fail,' 'And so do I,' replied the 
King." 

"There is something still more ridiculous than my piece," said 
Beaumarchais himself; "that is, its success." Mademoiselle Arnould 
foresaw it the first day, and exclaimed, ' ' It is a production that will fail 
fifty nights successively." There was as crowded an audience on the 
seventy-second night as on the first. The following is extracted from 
Grimm's Correspondence : — 

'^Answer of M. de Beaumarchais to , who requested the use of his 

private box for some ladies desirous of seeing ' Figaro ' without being them- 
selves seen. 

' ' I have no respect for women who indulge themselves in seeing any 
play which they think indecorous, provided they can do so in secret. I 
lend myself to no such acts. I have given my piece to the public, to 
amuse, and not to instruct, not to give any compounding prudes the 
pleasure of going to admire it in a private box, and balancing their account 
with conscience by censuring it in company. To indulge in the pleasure 



f 

190 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

The Queen testified her displeasure against all who had 
assisted the author of the Marriage of Figaro to deceive 
the King into giving his consent that it should be represented. 
Her reproaches were more particularly directed against M. 
de Vaudreuil for having had it performed at his house. 
The violent and domineering disposition of her favourite's 
friend at last became disagreeable to her. 

One evening on the Queen's return from the Duchess's, 
she desired her valet de chambre to bring her billiard cue 
into her closet, and ordered me to open the box that con- 
tained it. I took out the cue, broken in two. It was of 
ivory and formed of one single elephant's tooth ; the butt 
was of gold and very tastefully wrought. "There," said 
she, "that is the way M. de Vaudreuil has treated a thing 
I valued highly. I had laid it upon the couch while I was 
talking to the Duchess in the salon; he had the assurance 
to make use of it, and in a fit of passion about a blocked 
ball, he struck the cue so violently against the table that he 
broke it in two. The noise brought me back into the 
billiard room ; I did not say a word to him, but my looks 
showed him how angry I was. He is the more provoked 
at the accident, as he aspires to the post of Governor to 
the Dauphin. I never thought of him for the place. It is 
quite enough to have consulted my heart only in the choice 
of a governess ; and I will not suffer that of a Governor to 
the Dauphin to be at all affected by the influence of my 
friends. I should be responsible for it to the nation. The 
poor man does not know that my determination is taken ; 
for I have never expressed it to the Duchess. Therefor^ 
judge of the sort of evening he must have passed ! " 

of vice and assume the credit of virtue is the hypocrisy of the age. My 
piece is not of a doubtful nature ; it must be patronised in good earnest, 
or avoided altogether ; therefore, vniYi all respect to you, I shall keep my 
box." This letter was circulated all over Paris for a week. 



CHAPTER XII 

The diamond necklace — Account of Boehmer the jeweller — His inter- 
view with Madame Campan — The Cardinal de Rohan interrogated 
in the King's Cabinet — Particulars relative to Madame de Lamotte 
and her family — Steps taken by the Cardinal's relations — The 
prosecution — The clergy remonstrate — Decree of the Parliament 
— The Queen's grief — Remark of Louis XVI. 

Shortly after the public mind had been thrown into agita- 
tion by the performance of the Marriage of Figaro^ an 
obscure plot, contrived by swindlers and matured in a cor- 
rupted society, attacked the Queen's character in a vital 
point and assailed the majesty of the throne. 

I am about to speak of the notorious affair of the neck- 
lace purchased, as it was said, for the Queen by Cardinal 
de Rohan. ^ I will narrate all that has come to my knowledge 
relating to this business ; the most minute particulars will 
prove how little reason the Queen had to apprehend the 
blow by which she was threatened ; and which must be 
attributed to a fatality that human prudence could not have 
foreseen ; but from which, to say the truth, she might have 
extricated herself with more skill. 

1 For full details of the affair of the diamond necklace, see the work 
by M. Emile Campardon, Marie Antoi?iett& et le Proces du Collier, Paris, 
Plon, 1863. The Memoirs of Madame Campan are frequently quoted in 
this work, in which the answers of the Cardinal and of the other persons 
implicated to the interrogations made are given, with an engraving of the . 
too celebrated collar. 



192 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

I have already said that in 1774 the Queen purchased 
jewels of Boehmer to the value of three hundred and sixty 
thousand francs, that she paid for them herself out of her 
own private funds, and that it required several years to 
enable her to complete the payment The King afterwards 
presented her with a set of rubies and diamonds of- a fine 
water, and subsequently with a pair of bracelets worth two 
hundred thousand francs. The Queen, after having her 
diamonds reset in new patterns, told Boehmer that she found 
her jewel case rich enough, and was not desirous of making 
any addition to it.^ Still, this jeweller busied himself for 
some years in forming a collection of the finest diamonds 
circulating in the trade, in order to compose a necklace of 
several rows, which he hoped to induce her Majesty to 

^ Except on those days when the assemblies at Court were particularly 
attended, such as the ist of January and the 2d of February, devoted to 
the procession of the Order of the Holy Ghost, and on the festivals of 
Easter, Whitsuntide, and Christmas, the Queen no longer wore any dresses 
but muslin or white Florentine taffety. Her head-dress was merely a hat.; 
the plainest were preferred ; and her diamonds never quitted their caskets 
but for the dresses of ceremony, confined to the days I have mentioned. 
Before the Queen was five-and-twenty she began to apprehend that she 
might be induced to make too frequent use of flowers and of ornaments, 
which at that time were exclusively reserved for youth. Madame Berlin 
having brought a wreath for the head and neck, composed of roses, the 
Queen feared that the brightness of the flowers might be disadvantageous 
to her complexion. She was unquestionably too severe upon herself, her 
beauty having as yet experienced no alteration ; it is easy to conceive the 
concert of praise and compliment that replied to the doubt she had ex- 
pressed. The Queen, approaching me, said, ' ' I charge you, from this 
day, to give me notice when flowers shall cease to become me." "I 
shall do no such thing," I replied immediately; "I have not read GU 
Bias without profiting in some degree from it, and I find your Majesty's 
■order too much like that given him by the Archbishop of Granada, to 
warn him of the moment when he should begin to fall off in the composi- 
tion of his homilies." "Go," said the Queen: "you are less sincere 
than Gil Bias ; and I would have been more amenable than the Arch- 
bishop." — Madame Campan. 



THE DIAMOND NECKLACE 193 

purchase ; he brought it to M. Campan, requesting him to 
mention it to the Queen, that she might ask to see it, and 
thus be induced to wish to possess it. This M. Campan 
refused to do, telHng him that he should be stepping out of 
the Une of his duty were he to propose to the Queen an 
expense of sixteen hundred thousand francs, and that he 
beheved neither the lady of honour nor the tirewoman 
would take upon herself to execute such a commission. 
Boehmer persuaded the King's first gentleman for the year 
to show this superb necklace to his Majesty, who admired 
it so much that he himself wished to see the Queen adorned 
with it and sent the case to her ; but she assured him she 
should much regret incurring so great an expense for such 
an article, that she had already very beautiful diamonds, 
that jewels of that description were now worn at Court not 
more than four or five times a year, that the necklace must 
1 be returned, and that the money would be much better 
j employed in building a man -of- war. ^ Boehmer, in sad 
I tribulation at finding his expectations delusive, endeavoured 
for some time, it is said, to dispose of his necklace among 
the various Courts of Europe. 

A year after his fruitless attempts, Boehmer again caused 
his diamond necklace to be offered to the King, proposing 
that it should be paid for partly by instalments, and partly 
in life annuities ; this proposal was represented as highly 
advantageous, and the King, in my presence, mentioned the 
matter once more to the Queen. I remember the Queen 
told him that if the bargain really was not bad, he might 
make it, and keep the necklace until the marriage of one 

^ Messrs. Boehmer and Bassange, jewellers to the Crown, were pro- 
prietors of a superb diamond necklace, which had, as it was said, been 
intended for the Comtesse du Barry. Being under the necessity of selling 
it, they offered it, during the last war, to the King and Queen ; but their 
Majesties made the following prudent answer : ' ' We stand more in need 
»f ships than of jewels." — Secret Correspondence of the Court of Louis XVL 

13 



194 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

of his children; but that, for her part, she would never 
wear it, being unwilling that the world should have to 
reproach her with having coveted so expensive an article. 
The King replied that their children were too young to 
justify such an expense, which would be greatly increased by 
the number of years the diamonds would remain useless, 
and that he would finally decline the offer. Bcehmer 
complained to everybody of his misfortune, and all reason- 
able people blamed him for having collected diamonds to 
so considerable an amount without any positive order for 
them. This man had purchased the office of jeweller to 
the Crown, which gave him some rights of entry at Court; 
After several months spent in ineffectual attempts to carry 
his point, and in idle complaints, he obtained an audience 
of the Queen, who had with her the young Princess her 
daughter; her Majesty did not know for what purpose 
Bcehmer sought this audience, and had not the slightest^ 
idea that it was to speak to her again about an article twice- 
refused by herself and the King, 

Bcehmer threw himself upon his knees, clasped his hands, 
burst into tears, and exclaimed, "Madame, I am ruined 
and disgraced if you do not purchase my necklace. I 
cannot outlive so many misfortunes. When I go hence I 
shall throw myself into the river." "Rise, Bcehmer," said 
the Queerr,'in a tone sufficiently severe to recall him to him- 
self; " I do not like these rhapsodies ; honest men have no 
occasion to fall on their knees to make their requests. If 
you were to destroy yourself I should regret you as a 
madman in whom I had taken an interest, but I should not 
be in any way responsible for that misfortune. Not only 
have I never ordered the article which causes your present 
despair, but whenever you have talked to me about fine 
collections of jewels I have told you that I should not add 
four diamonds to those which I already possessed. I told 



THE QUEEN AND THE JEWELLER 195 

you myself that I declined taking the necklace ; the King 
wished to give it to me, but I refused him also; never 
mention it to me again. Divide it, and try to sell it 
piecemeal, and do not drown yourself. I am very angry 
with you for acting this scene of despair in my presence and 
before this child. Let me never see you behave thus again. 
Go." Boehmer withdrew, overwhelmed with confusion, and 
nothing farther was then heard of him. 

When Madame Sophie was born the Queen told me M. 
de Sainte James, a rich financier, had apprised her that 
Boehmer was still intent upon the sale of his necklace, and 
that she ought, for her own satisfaction, to endeavour to 
learn what the man had done with it ; she desired me the 
first time I should meet him to speak to him about it, as if 
from the interest I took in his welfare. I spoke to him 
about his necklace, and he told me he had been very fortu- 
nate, having sold it at Constantinople for the favourite 
sultana. I communicated this answer to the Queen, who 
was delighted with it, but could not comprehend how the 
Sultan came to purchase his diamonds in Paris. 

The Queen long avoided seeing Boehmer, being fearful 
of his rash character ; and her valet de chambre^ who had 
the care of her jewels, made the necessary repairs to her 
ornaments unassisted. On the baptism of the Due d'An- 
gouleme in 1785 the King gave him a diamond epaulette 
and buckles, and directed Boehmer to deliver them to the 
Queen. Boehmer presented them on her return from mass, 
and at the same time gave into her hands a letter in the 
form of a petition. In this paper he told the Queen that 
he ' was happy to see her " in possession of the finest 
diamonds known in Europe," and entreated her not to 
forget him. The Queen read Boehmer's address to her ' 
aloud, and saw nothing in it but a proof of mental aberra- 
tion ; she lighted the paper at a wax taper standing near 



196 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

her, as she had some letters to seal, saying, "It is not 
worth keeping." She afterwards much regretted the loss of 
this enigmatical memorial. iVfter having burnt the paper, 
her Majesty said to me, "That man is born to be my 
torment ; he has always some mad scheme in his head ; re- 
member, the first time you see him, to tell him that I do not 
like diamonds now, and that I will buy no more so long as 
I live ; that if I had any money to spare, I would rather add 
to my property at Saint Cloud by the purchase of the land 
surrounding it ; now, mind you enter into all these particu- 
lars and impress them well upon him." I asked her 
whether she wished me to send for him ; she replied in the 
negative, adding that it would be sufficient to avail myself 
of the first opportunity afforded by meeting him ; and that 
the slightest advance towards such a man would be mis- 
placed. 

On the ist of August I left Versailles for my country 
house at Crespy; on the 3d came Boehmer, extremely 
uneasy at not having received any answer from the Queen, 
to ask me whether I had any commission from her to him; 
I replied that she had entrusted me with none ; that she 
had no commands for him, and I faithfully repeated all she 
had desired me to say to him. " But," said Boehmer, " the 
answer to the letter I presented to her — to whom must I 
apply for thlit ?" "To nobody," answered I ; "her Majesty 
burnt your memorial without even comprehending its mean- 
ing." "Ah! madame," exclaimed he, " that is impossible ; 
the Queen knows that she has money to pay me ! " Money, 
M. Boehmer? Your last accounts against the Queen- 
were discharged long ago." " Madame, you are not in the 
secret. A man who is ruined for want of payment of fifteen 
hundred thousand francs cannot be said to be satisfied." 
"Have you lost your senses?" said I; "for what can the 
Queen owe you so extravagant a sum ?" " For my necklace-, 



MADAME CAMPAN DETECTS A PLOT 197 

madam e," replied Boehmer coolly. "How! " returned I, "that 
necklace again, which you have teased the Queen about so 
many years ! Did you not tell me you had sold it at Con- 
stantinople ?" " The Queen desired me to give that answer 
to all who should speak to me on the subject," said the 
wretched dupe. He then told me that the Queen wished 
to have the necklace, and had had it purchased for her by 
Monseigneur the Cardinal de Rohan. "You are deceived," 
I exclaimed ; " the Queen has not once spoken to the 
Cardinal since his return from Vienna ; there is not a man 
at her Court less favourably leoked upon." "You are 
deceived yourself, madame," said Boehmer ; " she sees him 
so much in private, that it was to his Eminence she gave 
thirty thousand francs, which were paid me as an instal- 
ment; she took them, in his presence, out of the little 
secretaire of Sevres porcelain next the fireplace in her 
boudoir." "And the Cardinal told you all this?" "Yes, 
madame, himself." "What a detestable plot!" cried I. — 
" Indeed, to say the truth, madame, I begin to be much 
alarmed, for his Eminence assured me that the Queen 
would wear the necklace on Whit-Sunday, but I did not see 
it upon her, and it was that which induced me to write to 
her Majesty." He then asked me what he ought to do. I 
advised him to go on to Versailles, instead of returning to 
Paris, whence he had just arrived ; to obtain an immediate 
audience from the Baron de Breteuil, who, as head of the 
King's household, was the minister of the department to 
which Boehmer belonged, and to be circumspect; and I 
added, that he appeared to me extremely culpable, not as a 
diamond merchant, but because being a sworn officer it was 
unpardonable of him to have acted without the direct 
orders of the King, the Queen, or the minister. He 
answered, that he had not acted without direct orders ; that 
he had in his possession all the notes signed by the Queen, 



198 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

and that he had even been obHged to show them to several 
bankers in order to induce them to extend the time for his 
payments. I urged his departure for Versailles, and he 
assured me he would go there immediately. Instead of 
following my advice, he went to the Cardinal, and it was of 
this visit of Boehmer's that his Eminence made a memo- 
randum, found in a drawer overlooked by the Abbe Georgel 
when he burnt, by order of the Cardinal, all the papers 
which the latter had at Paris. The memorandum was thus 
worded : " On this day, 3d August, Boehmer went to 
Madame Campan's country house, and she told him that 
the Queen had never had his necklace, and that he had 
been deceived." 

When Boehmer was gone, I wanted to follow him, and 
go to the Queen; my father-in-law prevented me, and 
ordered me to leave the minister to elucidate such an im- 
portant affair, observing that it was an infernal plot ; that I 
had given Boehmer the best advice, and had nothing more 
to do with the business. Boehmer never said one word to 
me about the woman De Lamotte, and her name was men- 
tioned for the first time by the Cardinal in his answers to 
the interrogatories put to him before the King. After see- 
ing the Cardinal, Boehmer went to Trianon, and sent a 
message to the Queen, purporting that I had advised him 
to come and speak to her. His very words were repeated 
to her Majesty, who said, " He is mad ; I have nothing to 
say to him, and will not see him." Two or three days after- 
wards the Queen sent for me to Petit Trianon, to rehearse 
with me the part of Rosina, which she was to perform in- 
the Barber of Seville. I was alone with her, sitting upon 
her couch ; no mention was made of anything but the part. 
After we had spent an hour in the rehearsal, her Majesty 
asked me why I had sent Boehmer to her ; saying he had 
been in my name to speak to her, and that she would not 



INDIGNATION OF THE QUEEN 199 

see him. It was in this manner I learnt that he had not 
followed my advice in the slightest degree. The change of 
my countenance, when I heard the man's name, was very 
perceptible; the Queen perceived it, and questioned me. 
I entreated her to see him, and assured her it was of the 
utmost importance for her peace of mind ; that there was 
a plot going on, of which she was not aware ; and that it 
was a serious one, since engagements signed by herself were 
shown about to people who had lent Boehmer money. Her 
surprise and vexation were excessive. She desired me to 
remain at Trianon, and sent off a courier to Paris, ordering 
Boehmer to come to her upon some pretext which has 
escaped my recollection. He came next morning ; in fact it 
was the day on which the play was performed, and that was 
the last amusement the Queen allowed herself at that retreat. 

The Queen made him enter her closet, and asked him 
by what fatality it was that she was still doomed to hear of 
his foolish pretence of selling her an article which she had 
steadily refused for several years ? He repHed, that he was 
compelled, being unable to pacify his creditors any longer. 
"What are your creditors to me?" said her Majesty. 
Boehmer then regularly related to her all that he had been 
made to believe had passed between the Queen and himself 
through the intervention of the Cardinal. She was equally 
incensed and surprised at each thing she heard. In vain 
did she speak ; the jeweller, equally importunate and dan- 
gerous, repeated incessantly, " Madame, there is no longer 
time for feigning ; condescend to confess that you have my 
necklace, and let some assistance be given to me, or my 
bankruptcy will soon bring the whole to light." 

It is easy to imagine how the Queen must have suffered. 
On Boehmer's going away, I found her in an alarming con- 
dition ; the idea that any one could have believed that such 
a man as the Cardinal possessed her full confidence ; that 



200 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

she should have employed him to deal with a tradesman with- 
out the King's knowledge, for a thing which she had refused 
to accept from the King himself, drove her to desperation. 
She sent first for the Abbe de Vermond, and then for the 
Baron de Breteuil. Their hatred and contempt for the 
Cardinal made them too easily forget that the lowest faults 
do not prevent the higher orders of the empire from being 
defended by those to whom they have the honour to belong ; 
that a Rohan, a Prince of the Church, however culpable he 
might be, would be sure to have a considerable party which 
would naturally be joined by all the discontented persons of 
the Court, and all t)i& frondeurs of Paris. They too easily 
believed that he would be stripped of all the advantages of 
his rank and order, and given up to the disgrace due to his 
irregular conduct ; they deceived themselves. 

I saw the Queen after the departure of the Baron and 
the Abbe ; her agitation made me shudder. " Fraud must 
be unmasked," said she; "when the Roman purple and 
the title of Prince cover a mere money-seeker, a cheat who 
dares to compromise the wife of his sovereign, France and 
all Europe should know it." It is evident that from that 
moment the fatal plan was decided on. The Queen per- 
ceived my alarm ; I did not conceal it from her. I knew 
too well that she had many enemies not to be apprehensive 
on seeing her attract the. attention of the whole world to an 
intrigue that they would try to complicate still more. I en- 
treated her to seek the most prudent and moderate advice. 
She silenced me by desiring me to make myself easy, and 
to rest satisfied that no imprudence would be committed. ' 

On the following Sunday, the 15 th of August, being the 
Assumption, at twelve o'clock, at the very moment when 
the Cardinal, dressed in his pontifical garments, was about to 
proceed to the chapel, he was sent for into the King's closet, 
where the Queen then was. The King said to him, " You 



THE FORGED LETTER 



have purchased diamonds of Boehmer?" — "Yes, Sire." — 
"What have you done with them?" — "I thought they had 
been delivered to the Queen."— "Who commissioned 
you?" — "A lady, called the Comtesse de Lamotte-Valois, 
who handed me a letter from the Queen ; and I thought I 
v/as gratifying her Majesty by taking this business on my- 
self" The Queen here interrupted him and said, " How, sir, 
could you believe that I should select you, to whom I have 
not spoken for eight years, to negotiate anything for me, 
and especially through the mediation of a woman whom I 
do not even know?" — "I see plainly," said the Cardinal, 
" that I have been duped ; I will pay for the necklace ; my 
desire to please your Majesty blinded me ; I suspected no 
trick in the affair, and I am sorry for it." He then took 
out of his pocket-book a letter from the Queen to Madame 
de Lamotte, giving him this commission. The King took 
it, and holding it towards the Cardinal, said, "This is 
neither written nor signed by the Queen ; how could a Prince 
of the House of Rohan, and a Grand Almoner of France, 
ever think that the Queen would sign Marie Antoinette de 
France ? Everybody knows that Queens sign only by their 
baptismal names.^ But sir," pursued the King, handing 
him a copy of his letter to Boehmer, " have you ever written 
such a letter as this ?" Having glanced over it, the 
Cardinal said, "I do not remember having written it." — 
" But what if the original, signed by yourself, were shown to 

^ The Cardinal ought, it has been said, to have detected the forgery of 
the approbations and signatxire to the instructions ; his place of Grand 
Almoner gave him the opportunity of knowing both her Majesty's writing 
and her manner of signing her name. To this important objection it is 
answered, that it was long since M. de Rohan had seen her writing ; that 
he did not recollect it ; that, besides, not being at all suspicious, he had 
no inducement to endeavour to verify it ; and that the Crown jewellers, to 
whom he showed the instrument, had not, any more than himself, detected 
the imposition. — Secret Corresponde7ice of the Court of Louis XVI. 



202 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

you?" — "If the letter be signed by myself it is genuine." 
He was extremely confused, and repeated several times, 
"I have been deceived, Sire; I will pay for the neck- 
lace. I ask pardon of your Majesties." — "Then explain 
to me," resumed the King, "the whole of this enigma. I 
do not wish to find you guilty ; I had rather you would 
justify yourself Account for all the manoeuvres with 
Boehmer, these assurances and these letters." The 
Cardinal then, turning pale, and leaning against the table, 
said, "Sire, I am too much confused to answer your Majesty 

in a way " " Compose yourself, Cardinal, and go into 

my cabinet, you will there find paper, pens, and ink, write 
what you have to say to me." The Cardinal went into the 
King's cabinet, and returned a quarter of an hour afterwards 
with a document as confused as his verbal answers had been. 
The King then said, " Withdraw, sir." The Cardinal left 
the King's chamber, with the Baron de Breteuil, who gave 
him in custody to a lieutenant of the Body Guard, with 
orders to take him to his apartment. M. d'Agoult, aide- 
major of the Body Guard, afterwards took him into custody, 
and conducted him to his hotel, and from thence to the . 
Bastille. But while the Cardinal had with hiim only th^ I 
young lieutenant of the Body Guard, who was much em- 
barrassed at having such an order to execute, his Eminence 
met his hey due at the door of the Salon of Hercules ; he 
spoke to him in German, and then asked the lieutenant if 
he could lend him a pencil ; the officer gave him that which 
he carried about him, and the Cardinal wrote to the Abb^ 
Georgel, his grand vicar and friend, instantly to burn all 
Madame de Lamotte's correspondence, and all his other let- 
ters.^ This commission was executed before M. de Crosne, 

1 The Abb6 Georgel thus relates the circumstance : — 

' ' The Cardinal, at that trying moment, gave an astonishing proof of 

his presence of mind : notwithstanding the escort which surrounded him, 



ARREST OF CARDINAL DE ROHAN 



203 



j lieutenant of police, had received an order from the 
' Baron de Breteuil to put seals upon the Cardinal's papers. 
j The destruction of all his Eminence's correspondence, and 
I particularly that with Madame de Lamotte, threw an im- 
' penetrable cloud over the whole affair. 

From that moment all proofs of this intrigue disappeared. 

Madame de Lamqtte was apprehended at Bar-sur-Aube ; 
j her husband had already gone to England. From the 
' beginning of this fatal affair all the proceedings of the 
i Court appear to have been prompted by imprudence and 
; want of foresight ; the obscurity resulting left free scope for 

the fables of which the voluminous memorials written on 
j one side and the other consisted. The Queen so little 

imagined what could have given rise to the intrigue, of 
, which she was about to become the victim, that at the 
i moment when the King was interrogating the Cardinal, a 
' terrific idea entered her mind. With that rapidity of 

! favoured by the attendant crowd, he stopped, and stooping down with his 
j face towards the wall, as if to fasten his buckle, snatched out his pencil and 
j hastily wrote a few words upon a scrap of paper placed under his hand in 
his square red cap. He rose again and proceeded. On entering his 
! house, his people formed a lane ; he slipped this paper, unperceived, into 
j the hand of a confidential valet de chamire, who waited for him at the 
j door of his apartment." This story is scarcely credible : it is not at the 
moment of a prisoner's arrest, when an inquisitive crowd surrounds and 
I watches him, that he can stop and write secret messages. However, the 
I valet de chambre posts off to Paris. He arrives at the palace of the 
* Cardinal between twelve and one o'clock ; and his horse falls dead in the 
' stable. " I was in my apartment," says the Abbd Georgel, "the valet de 
j thambre entered wildly, with a deadly paleness on his countenance, and 
I exclaimed, ' All is lost ; the Prince is arrested. ' He instantly fell, fainting, 
and dropped the note of which he was the bearer. " The portfolio containing 
I the papers which might compromise the Cardinal was immediately placed 
beyond the reach of all search. Madame de Lamotte also was fooHshly 
1 allowed sufficient time after she heard of the arrest of the Cardinal to burn 
;all the letters she had received from him. Assisted by Beugnot, she com- 
pleted this at three the same morning that she was arrested at four. — See 
i Memoirs of Comte de Beugnot, vol. i. p. 74. 



204 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

thought caused by personal interest and extreme agitation, 
she fancied that if a design to ruin her in the eyes of the 
King and the French people were the concealed motive of 
this intrigue, the Cardinal would, perhaps, affirm that she 
had the necklace; that he had been honoured with her 
confidence for this purchase, made without the King's 
knowledge ; and point out some secret place in her apart- 
ment, where he might have got some villain to hide it. 
Want of money and the meanest swindling were the sole 
motives for this criminal affair. The necklace had already 
been taken to pieces and sold, partly in London, partly in 
Holland, and the rest in Paris. 

The moment the Cardinal's arrest was known a universal 
clamour arose. Every memorial that appeared during the 
trial increased the outcry. On this occasion the clergy took 
that course which a little wisdom and the least knowledge 
of the spirit of such a body ought to have foreseen. The 
Rohans and the House of Conde, as well as the clerg)^, 
made their complaints heard everywhere. The King 
consented to having a legal judgment, and early in 
September he addressed letters patent to the Parliament, 
in which he said that he was "filled with the most just 
indignation on seeing the means which, by the con- 
fession of his Eminence the Cardinal, had been em- 
ployed in - order to inculpate his most dear spouse and 
companion." 

Fatal moment ! in which the Queen found herself, in 
consequence of this highly impolitic step, on trial with a 
subject, who ought to have been dealt with by the power of 
the King alone. The Princes and Princesses of the House 
of Conde, and of the Houses of Rohan, Soubise, and 
Guemenee, put on mourning, and were seen ranged in lihe j 
way of the members of the Grand Chamber to salute them 
as they proceeded to the Palace, on the days of the 



THE COMTESSE DE LAMOTTE 205 

Cardinal's trial ; and Princes of the blood openly canvassed 
\ against the Queen of France. 

The Pope wished to claim, on behalf of the Cardinal de 
Rohan, the right belonging to his ecclesiastical rank, and 
demanded that he should be judged at Rome. The 
Cardinal de Bernis, ambassador from France to his Holi- 
ness, formerly Minister for Foreign Affairs, blending the 
\ wisdom of an old diplomatist with the principles of a Prince 
I of the Church, wished that this scandalous affair should be 
i hushed up. The King's aunts, who were on very intimate 
.j terms with the ambassador, adopted his opinion, and the 
conduct of the King and Queen was equally and loudly 
I censured in the apartments of Versailles and in the hotels 
and coffee-houses of Paris. 

Madame, the King's sister-in-law, had been the sole 
i protectress of De Lamotte, and had confined her patronage 
' to granting her a pension of twelve to fifteen hundred francs. 
\ Her brother was in the navy, but the Marquis de Chabert, 
j to whom he had been recommended, could never train a 
j good officer. The Queen in vain endeavoured to call to 
I mind the features of this person, of whom she had often 
j heard as an intriguing woman, who came frequently on 
j Sundays to the gallery of Versailles. At the time when all 
I France was engrossed by the prosecution against the 
I Cardinal, the portrait of the Comtesse de Lamotte- Valois 
;was publicly sold. Her Majesty desired me one day, when 
I was going to Paris, to buy her the engraving, which was 
said to be a tolerable likeness, that she might ascertain 
whether she could recognise in it any person whom she 
I might have seen in the gallery.^ 

The woman De Lamotte's father was a peasant at Auteuil, 

^ The public, with the exception of the lowest class, were admitted into 
the gallery and larger apartments of Versailles, as they were into the 
I park. — Madame Campan. 



1 

2o6 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

though he called himself Valois. Madame de Boulainvilliers 
once saw from her terrace two pretty little peasant girls, each 
labouring under a heavy bundle of sticks. The priest of 
the village, who was walking with her, told her that the 
children possessed some curious papers, and that he had no 
doubt they were descendants of a Valois, an illegitimate son 
of one of the Princes of that name.^ 

The family of Valois had long ceased to appear in the 
world. Hereditary vices had gradually plunged them into 
the deepest misery. I have heard that the last Valois then 
known of occupied the estate called Gros Bois ; that as he 
seldom came to Court, Louis XIII. asked him what he was 
about that he remained so constantly in the country ; and 
that this M. de Valois merely answered, ''^ Sire, I only do 
there what I ought P'^ It was shortly afterwards discovered 
that he was coming. 

Neither the Queen herself nor any one near her ever had 
the slightest connection with the woman De Lamotte ; and 
during her prosecution she could point out but one of the 
Queen's servants, named Desclos, a valet of the Queen's 
bed-chamber, to whom she pretended she had delivered 
Boehmer's necklace. This Desclos was a very honest man ; 
upon being confronted with the woman De Lamotte, it was 
proved that she had never seen him but once, which was at 
the house of the wife of a surgeon-accoucheur at Versailles, 

^ Madame de Lamotte (Jeanne de Saint R6mi de Valois) was bom at 
Fontette, in the department of the Aube, 22d July 1756. She was the , 
second child of Jacques de Saint R^mi de Valois, who at first called himself 
De Luz, and later De Valois, Baron de Saint R^mi, the seventh in descent 
from Henri de Saint Rdmi, the son of Henri 11. , King of France, and of 
Nicole de Savigny, Dame de Saint R6mi, de Fontette, du Chatelier, and 
de Noez. — Marie Antoinette et le Proces du Collier, Paris, Plon, 1863, p. 
14. 

^ Je fiy fait que ce que je dois, which also means, " I only make what 
I owe," and in that sense was a true answer, as well as an unusual evidence 
of his moderation. 



TRIAL OF THE CARDINAL 207 

the only person she visited at Court ; and that she had not 
given him the necklace. Madame de Lamotte married a 
private in Monsieur's body-guard ; she lodged at Versailles 
at the Belle Image, a very inferior furnished house ; and it 
is inconceivable how so obscure a person could succeed in 
making herself believed to be a friend of the Queen, who, 
though so extremely affable, seldom granted audiences, and 
only to titled persons. 

The trial of the Cardinal is too generally known to 
require me to repeat its details here. The point most 
embarrassing to him was the interview he had in February 
1785 with M. de Sainte James, to whom he confided the 
particulars of the Queen's pretended commission, and 
showed the contract approved and signed Marie Antoinette 
de 'France. The memorandum found in a drawer of the 
Cardinal's bureau, in which he had himself written what 
Boehmer told him after having seen me at my country 
house, was likewise an unfortunate document for his 
Eminence. 

I offered to the King to go and declare that Boehmer 
had told me that the Cardinal assured him he had received 
from the Queen's own hand the thirty thousand francs 
given on account upon the bargain being concluded, and 
that his Eminence had seen her Majesty take that sum in 
bills from the porcelain secretaire in her boudoir. The 
King declined my offer, and said to me, " Were you alone 
when Boehmer told you this?" I answered that I was 
alone with him in my garden. "Well," resumed he, "the 
man would deny the fact ; he is now sure of being paid his 
sixteen hundred thousand francs, which the Cardinal's 
family will find it necessary to make good to him -^ we can 

^ The guilty woman no sooner knew that all was about to be discovered 
than she sent for the jewellers, and told them the Cardinal had perceived 
that the agreement, which he believed to have been signed by the Queen, 



2o8 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

no longer rely upon his sincerity ; it would look as if you 
were sent by the Queen, and that would not be proper." 

The procureur-generaV s information was severe on the 
Cardinal. The Houses of Conde and Rohan and the 
majority of the nobility saw in this affair only an attack on 
the Prince's rank, the clergy only a blow aimed at the 
privileges of a Cardinal. The clergy demanded that the 
unfortunate business of the Prince Cardinal de Rohan 
should be submitted to ecclesiastical jurisdiction, and the 
Archbishop of Narbonne, then President of the Convocation, 
made representations upon the subject to the King, the 
bishops wrote to his Majesty to remind him that a private 
ecclesiastic impHcated in the affair then pending would have 
a right to claim his constitutional judges, and that this 
right was refused to a cardinal, his superior in the hierarchi- 
cal order. In short, the clergy and the greater part of the 
nobility were at that time outrageous against authority, and 
chiefly against the Queen. 

The procureur-generaV s conclusions, and those of a part 
of the heads of the magistracy, were as severe towards the 
Cardinal as the information had been ; yet he was fully 
acquitted by a majority of three voices; the woman De 
Lamotte was condemned to be whipped, branded, and im- 
prisoned ; and her husband, for contumacy, was condemned 
to the galleys for life.^ 

was a false and forged document. " However," added she, " the Cardinal 
possesses a considerable fortune, and he can very well fay you'' These 
words reveal the whole secret. The Countess had taken the necklace to 
herself, and flattered herself that M. de Rohan, seeing himself deceived 
and cruelly imposed upon, would determine to pay and make the best 
terms he could, rather than suffer a matter of this nature to become public. 
— Secret Correspondence of the Court of Louis XVI. 

1 The following extract is from the Me^noirs of the Abb^ Georgel : — 
"The sittings were long and multiphed ; it was necessary to read the 
whole proceedings ; more than fifty judges sat ; a master of requests, a 
friend of the Prince, wrote down all that was said there, and sent it to his | 



SENTENCE ON THE OFFENDERS 209 

M. Pierre de Laurencel, t\iQ procureuf-ghieraTs substitute, 
sent the Queen a list of the names of the members of the 
Grand Chamber, with the means made use of by the friends 
of the Cardinal to gain their votes during the trial. I had 
this list to keep among the papers which the Queen 
deposited in the house of M. Campan, my father-in-law, 
and which, at his death, she ordered me to preserve. I 
burnt this statement, but I remember ladies performed a 
part not very creditable to their principles ; it was by them, 
in consideration of large sums which they received, that 
some of the oldest and most respected members were won 
over. I did not see a single name amongst the whole 
Parliament that was gained directly. 

The belief confirmed by time is, that the Cardinal was 
completely duped by the woman De Lamotte and Cagliostro. 
The King may have been in error in thinking him an 
accomplice in this miserable and criminal scheme, but I 
have faithfully repeated his Majesty's judgment about it. 

However, the generally received opinion that the Baron 
de Breteuil's hatred for the Cardinal was the cause of the 
scandal and the unfortunate result of this affair contributed 
to the disgrace of the former still more than his refusal to 
give his granddaughter in marriage to the son of the Due 
de Polignac, The Abbe de Vermond threw the whole 
I blame of the imprudence and impolicy of the affair of the 
Cardinal de Rohan upon the minister, and ceased to be the 
friend and supporter of the Baron de Breteuil with the 
Queen. 

In the early part of the year 1786 the Cardinal, as has 

idvisers, who found means to inform the Cardinal of it, and to add the 
plan of conduct he ought to pursue." D'Epremdsnil, and other young 
counsellors, showed upon that occasion but too much audacity in braving 
!he Court, too much eagerness in seizing an opportunity of attacking it. 
They were the first to shake that authority which their functions made it a 
iUty in them to respect. — Note by the Editor. 

14 



2IO PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

been said, was fully acquitted, and came out of the Bastille, 
while Madame de Lamotte was condemned to be whipped, 
branded, and imprisoned. The Court, persisting in the 
erroneous views which had hitherto guided its measures, 
conceived that the Cardinal and the woman De Lamotte 
were equally culpable and unequally punished, and sought 
to restore the balance of justice by exiling the Cardinal to 
La Chaise -Dieu, and suffering Madame de Lamotte to 
escape a few days after she entered I'Hopital. This new 
error confirmed the Parisians in the idea that the wretch 
De Lamotte, who had never been able to make her way so 
far as to the room appropriated to the Queen's women, had 
really interested the Queen herself.^ 

^ Further particulars will be found in the Memoirs of the Comte de 
Beugnot (London : Hurst and Blackett, 1871), as he knew Madame de 
Lamotte from the days of her early childhood (when the three children, 
the Baron de Valois, who died captain of a frigate, and the two Made- 
moiselles de Saint R^mi, the last descendants of the Baron de Rdmi, a 
natural son of Henry H. , were almost starving) to the time of her tem- 
porary prosperity. In fact, he was with her when she burnt the correspond- 
ence of the Cardinal, in the interval the Covtrt foolishly allowed between 
his arrest and her capture, and de Beugnot believed he had met at her 
house, at the moment of their return from their successful trick, the whole 
party engaged in deluding the Cardinal. It is worth noting that he was 
then struck by the face of Mademoiselle d'Oliva, who had just personated 
the Queen in presenting a rose to the Cardinal. It may also be cited aS 
a pleasing quality of Madame de Lamotte that she, ' ' in her ordinary con- 
versation, used the words stupid and honest as synonymous." — See 
Beugnot, vol. i. p. 60. 



CHAPTER XIII 
« 

The Archbishop of Sens is appointed to the Ministry — The Abbe de 
Vermond's joy on the occasion — The Queen is obliged to take a 
part in business — Money sent to Vienna contrary to her inclination 
— Anecdotes — The Queen supports the Archbishop of Sens in 
office — Public rejoicings on his dismissal — Opening of the States- 
General — Cries of " Vive le Due d' Orleans /" — Their effect upon 
the Queen — Mirabeau — He requests an embassy — Misfortunes in- 
duce the Queen to yield to superstitious fears — Anecdotes — Pre- 
judices of the provincial deputies of the tiers-etat—Csyxses of these 
prejudices — Death of the first Dauphin — Anecdotes. 

The Abbe de Vermond could not repress his exultation 
when he succeeded in getting the Archbishop of Sens 
appointed head of the council of finance. I have more than 
once heard him say that seventeen years of patience were 
i not too long a term for success in a Court ; that he spent 
all that time in gaining the end he had in view ; but that 
at length the Archbishop was where he ought to be for the 
^ood of the State. The Abbe from this time in the Queen's 
private circle no longer concealed his credit and influence ; 
iothing could equal the confidence with which he displayed 
J he extent of his pretensions. He requested the Queen to 
l^der that the apartments appropriated to him should be 
I'nlarged, telling her that being obliged to give audiences to 
'ishops, cardinals, and ministers he required a residence 
I uitable to his present circumstances. The Queen continued 
b treat him as she did before the Archbishop's arrival at 



212 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANT0INET7E 

Court j but the household showed him increased considera- 
tion : the word Monsieur preceded that of Abbe ; and from 
that moment not only the livery servants but also the 
people of the antechambers rose when Monsieur VAbbe. was 
passing, though there never was, to my knowledge, any 
order given to that effect. 

The Queen was obliged, on account of the King's dis- 
position and the very limited confidence he placed in the 
Archbishop of Sens, to take a part in public affairs. While 
M. de Maurepas lived she kept out of that danger, as may 
be seen by the censure which the Baron de Besenval passes 
on her in his memoirs for not availing herself of the con- 
ciliation he had promoted between the Queen and that 
minister, who counteracted the ascendency which the Queen 
and her intimate friends might otherwise have gained over 
the King's mind. 

The Queen has often assured me that she never inter- 
fered respecting the interests of Austria but once; and 
that was only to claim the execution of the treaty of alliance 
at the time when Joseph II. was at war with Prussia and 
Turkey ; that she then demanded that an army of twenty- 
four thousand men should be sent to him instead of fifteen 
millions, an alternative which had been left to option ir 
the treaty, in case the Emperor should have a just war tc 
maintain ; that she could not obtain her object, and M. de 
Vergennes, in an interview which she had with him upon 
the subject, put an end to her importunities by observing 
that he was answering the mother of the Dauphin and not 
the sister of the Emperor. The fifteen millions were sent. 
There was no want of money at Vienna, and the value of £ 
French army was fully appreciated. 

"But how," said the Queen, "could they be so wickeci 
as to send off those fifteen millions from the general post} 
office, diligently publishing, even to the street porters, t'haj 



THE QUEEN ON AMERICA 213 

they were loading carriages with money that I was sending 
to my brother ! — whereas it is certain that the money would 
equally have been sent if I had belonged to another House; 
and, besides, it was sent contrary to my inclination."^ 

When the Comte de Moustier set out on his mJssion to 
the United States, after having had his public audience of 
leave he came and asked me to procure him a private one. 
I. could not succeed even with the strongest solicitations : 
the Queen desired me to wish him a good voyage, but 
added that none but ministers could have anything to say 
to him in private, since he was going to a country where 
the names of King and Queen must be detested. 

Marie Antoinette had then no direct influence over State 

1 This was not the first time the Queen had become unpopular in 
consequence of financial support afforded by France to her brother. The 
Emperor Joseph II. made, in November 1783 and in May 1784, startling 
claims on the repubhc of the United Provinces ; he demanded the opening 
of the Scheldt, the cession of Maestricht with its dependencies, of the 
country beyond the Meuse, the county of Vroenhoven, and a sum of 
seventy millions of florins. The first gun was fired by the Emperor on 
the Scheldt 5th November 1784. Peace was concluded 8th November 
1785, through the mediation of France. The singular part was the in- 
demnification granted to the Emperor : this was a sum of ten millions of 
Dutch florins ; the articles 15, 16, and 17 of the treaty stipulated the 
quotas of it. Holland paid five millions and a half, and France, under 
the direction of M. de Vergennes, four millions and a half of florins, that 
is to say, nine millions and forty-five thousand francs, according to M. 
Soulavie. M. de Sdgur, in his Policy of Cabinets (vol. iii.), says relative 
to this affair : — 

"M. de Vergennes has been much blamed for having terminated, by 
a sacrifice of seven millions, the contest that existed between the United 
Provinces and the Emperor. In that age of philosophy men were still very 
uncivilised ; in that age of commerce they made very erroneous calcula- 
tions ; and those who accused the Queen of sending the gold of France to 
her brother would have been better pleased if, to support a republic devoid 
of energy, the blood of two hundred thousand men, and three or four 
hundred miUions of francs, had been sacrificed, and at the same time the 
risk run of losing the advantage of peace dictated to England." — Madame 
Campan. 



214 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

affairs until after the deaths of M. de Maurepas and M. de 
Vergennes, and the retirement of M. de Calonne. She 
frequently regretted her new situation, and looked upon it 
as a misfortune which she could not avoid. One day, 
while I was assisting her to tie up a number of memorials 
and reports, which some of the ministers had handed to 
her to be given to the King, "Ah!" said she, sighing, 
"there is an end of all happiness for me, since they have 
made an intriguer of me." I exclaimed at the word. 
"Yes," resumed the Queen, "that is the right term; every 
woman who meddles with affairs above her understanding 
or out of her line of duty is an intriguer and nothing else ; 
you will remember, however, that it is not my own fault, 
and that it is with regret I give myself such a title ; Queens 
of France are happy only so long as they meddle with 
nothing, and merely preserve influence sufficient to advance 
their friends and reward a few zealous servants. Do you 
know what happened to me lately ? One day since I began 
to attend private committees at the King's, while crossing 
the a>il-de-baiuf^ I heard one of the musicians of the chapel 
say so loud that I lost not a single word, ' A Queen who 
does her duty will remain in her apartment to knit' I said 
within myself, ' Poor wretch, thou art right : but thou 
knowest not my situation ; I yield to necessity and my evil 
destiny.'" 'This situation was the more painful to the 
Queen inasmuch as Louis XVI. had long accustomed him- 
self to say nothing to her respecting State affairs ; and 
when, towards the close of his reign, she was obliged to 
interfere in the most important matters, the same habit in 
the King frequently kept from her particulars which it was 
necessary she should have known. Obtaining, therefore, 
only insufficient information, and guided by persons more 
ambitious than skilful, the Queen could not be useful in 
important affairs; yet, at the same time, her ostensible 



THE ARCHBISHOP OF SENS 215 

interference drew upon her, from all parties and all classes 
of society, an unpopularity, the rapid progress of which 
alarmed all those who were sincerely attached to her.^ 

Carried away by the eloquence of the Archbishop ot 
Sens, and encouraged in the confidence she placed in that 
minister by the incessant eulogies of the Abbe de Vermond 
on his abilities, the Queen unfortunately followed up her 
first mistake of bringing him into office in 1787 by 
supporting him at the time of his disgrace, which was 
obtained by the despair of a whole nation. She thought it 
was due to her dignity to give him some marked proof of 
her regard at the moment of his departure ; misled by her 
feelings she sent him her portrait enriched with jewelry, and 
a brevet for the situation of lady of the palace for Madame 
de Canisy, his niece, observing that it was necessary to 
indemnify a minister sacrificed to the intrigues of the Court 
and the factious spirit of the nation ; that otherwise none 
would be found willing to devote themselves to the interests 
of the sovereign. On the day of the Archbishop's departure 
the public joy was universal, both at Court and at Paris : 
there were bonfires ; the attorneys' clerks burnt the Arch- 
bishop in effigy, and on the evening of his disgrace more 
than a hundred couriers were sent out from Versailles to 
spread the happy tidings among the country seats. I have 
seen the Queen shed bitter tears at the recollection of the 
errors she committed at this period, when subsequently, 
a short time before her death, the Archbishop had the au- 
dacity to say, in a speech which was printed, that the sole 
object of one part of his operations, during his adminis- 

1 In a caricature of the time the King was represented at table with 
his consort. He had a glass in his hand ; the Queen was raising a morsel 
to her lips ; the people were crowding round with their mouths open. Be- 
low was written, "The King drinks ; the Queen eats ; the people cry 
out." — Anecdotes of the Reign of Louis XVI., vol, i." 



2i6 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

tration, was the salutary crisis which the Revolution had 
produced. 

The benevolence and generosity shown by the King and 
Queen during the severe winter of 1788, when the Seine 
was frozen over and the cold was more intense than it had 
been for eighty years, procured them some fleeting popu- 
larity. The gratitude of the Parisians for the succour their 
Majesties poured forth was lively if not lasting. The snow 
was so abundant that since that period there has never been 
seen such a prodigious quantity in France. In different 
parts of Paris pyramids and obelisks of snow were erected 
with inscriptions expressive of the gratitude of the people. 
The pyramid in the Rue d'Angiviller was supported on a 
base six feet high by twelve broad ; it rose to the height of 
fifteen feet, and was terminated by a globe. Four blocks 
of stone, placed at the angles, corresponded with the 
obelisk, and gave it an elegant appearance. Several inscrip- 
tions, in honour of the King and Queen, were affixed to it. 
I went to see this singular monument, and recollect the 
following inscription : — 

"TO MARIE ANTOINETTE. 

" Lovely and good, to tender pity true, 
Queen of a virtuous King, this trophy view ; 
Cold ice and snow sustain its fragile form, 
But ev'ry grateful heart to thee is warm. 
Oh, may this tribute in your hearts excite, 
Illustrious pair, more pure and real delight, 
Whilst thus your virtues are sincerely prais'd, 
Than pompous domes by servile flatt'ry rais'd." 

The theatres generally rang with praises of the benefi- 
cence of the sovereigns : La Pa7'tie de Chasse de Henri IV. 
was represented for the benefit of the poor. The receipts 
were very considerable. 



CONVOCATION OF THE STATES-GENERAL 217 

When the fruitless measure of the Assembly of the 
Notables,^ and the rebellious spirit in the parliaments, had 
created the necessity for States-General, it was long discussed 
in council whether they should be assembled at Versailles 
or at forty or sixty leagues from the capital ; the Queen was 
for the latter course, and insisted to the King that they 
ought to be far away from the immense population of Paris. 
She feared that the people would influence the deliberations 
of the deputies ; several memorials were presented to the 
King upon that question ; but M. Necker prevailed, and 
Versailles was the place fixed upon. 

The day on which the King announced that he gave his 
consent to the convocation of the States-General, the Queen 
left the public dinner, and placed herself in the recess of 
the first window of her bed-chamber, with her face towards 
the garden. Her chief butler followed her, to present her 
coffee, which she usually took standing, as she was about 
to leave the table. She beckoned to me to come close to 
her. The King was engaged in conversation with some 
one in his room. When the attendant had served her he 
retired; and she addressed me, with the cup still in her 
hand : " Great Heavens ! what fatal news goes forth this 
day ! The King assents to the convocation of the States- 

1 The Assembly of the Notables, as may be seen in Weber's Memoirs, 
vol. i., overthrew the plans and caused the downfall of M. de Calonne. 
A Prince of the blood presided over each of the meetings of that assembly. 
Monsieur, afterwards Louis XVIII. , presided over the first meeting. 

"Monsieur," says a contemporary, "gained great reputation at the 
Assembly of the Notables in 1787. He did not miss attending his meeting 
a single day, and he displayed truly patriotic virtues. His care in dis- 
cussing the weighty matters of administration, in throwing hght upon them, 
and in defending the interests and the cause of the people, was such as 
even to inspire the King with some degree of jealousy. Monsieur openly 
said, ' That a respectful resistance to the orders of the Monarch was not 
blamable, and that authority might be met by argument, and forced to 
receive information without any offence whatever.'"— A^c/g by. the Edito?: 



2i8 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

General." Then she added, raising her eyes to heaven, "I 
dread it ; this important event is a first fatal signal of dis- 
cord in France." She cast her eyes down, they were filled 
with tears. She could not take the remainder of her 
coffee, but handed me the cup, and went to join the King. 
In the evening, when she was alone with me, she spoke 
only of this momentous decision. " It is the Parliament," 
said she, " that has compelled the King to have recourse to 
a measure long considered fatal to the repose of the kingdom. 
These gentlemen wish to restrain the power of the King ; but 
they give a great shock to the authority of which they make so 
bad a use, and they will bring on their own destruction." 

The double representation granted to the tiers-etat was 
now the chief topic of conversation. The Queen favoured 
this plan, to which the King had agreed ; she thought the 
hope of obtaining ecclesiastical favours would secure the 
clergy of the second order, and that M. Necker felt assured 
that he possessed the same degree of influence over the 
lawyers, and other people of that class. The Comte d'Artois, 
holding the contrary opinion, presented a memorial in the 
names of himself and several Princes of the blood to the 
King against the double representation. The Queen was 
displeased with him for this ; her confidential advisers in- 
fused into her apprehensions that the Prince was made the 
tool of a patty ; but his conduct was approved of by Madame 
de Polignac's circle, which the Queen thenceforward only 
frequented to avoid the appearance of a change in her habits. 
She almost always returned unhappy ; she was treated with 
the profound respect due to a Queen, but the devotion of 
friendship had vanished, to make way for the coldness of 
etiquette, which wounded her deeply. The alienation 
between her and the Comte d'Artois was also very painful 
to her, for she had loved him almost as tenderly as if he 
had been her own brother. 



''ANGLOMANIA " IN PARIS 219 

The opening of the States-General took place on the 4th 
of May 1789. The Queen on that occasion appeared for 
the last time in her life in regal magnificence. During the 
procession some low women, seeing the Queen pass, cried 
out, " Vive le Due d^ Orleans f" in so threatening a manner 
that she nearly fainted. She was obliged to be supported, 
and those about her were afraid it would be necessary to 
stop the procession. The Queen, however, recovered her- 
self, and much regretted that she had not been able to 
command more presence of mind. 

The rapidly-increasing distrust of the King and Queen 
shown by the populace was greatly attributable to incessant 
corruption by English gold, and the projects, either of 
revenge or of ambition, of the Due d'Orleans. Let it not be 
thought that this accusation is founded on what has been so 
often repeated by the heads of the French Government 
since the Revolution. Twice, between the 14th July and 
the 6th October 1789, the day on which the Court was 
dragged to Paris, the Queen prevented me from making 
little excursions thither of business or pleasure, saying to me, 
" Do not go on such a day to Paris ; the English have been 
scattering gold, we shall have some disturbance." The 
repeated visits of the Due d'Orleans to England had 
excited the Anglomania to such a pitch that Paris was no 
longer distinguishable from London. The French, formerly 
imitated by the whole of Europe, became on a sudden a 
nation of imitators, without considering the evils that arts 
and manufactures must suffer in consequence of the change. 
Since the treaty of commerce made with England at the 
peace of 1783, not merely equipages, but everything, even 
to ribands and common earthenware, were of English make. 
If this predominance of English fashions had been confined 
to filling our drawing-rooms with young men in English 
frock-coats, instead of the French dress, good taste and 



220 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

commerce might alone have suffered ; but the principles of 
English government had taken possession of these young 
heads — Constitution^ Upper House, Lower House^ national 
guarantee, bala?ice of power, Magna Charta, Law of Habeas 
Corpus, all these words were incessantly repeated, and 
seldom understood ; but they were of fundamental import- 
ance to a party which was then forming. 

The first sitting of the States took place on the following 
day. The King delivered his speech with firmness and 
dignity ; the Queen told me that he had taken great pains 
about it, and had repeated it frequently. His majesty gave 
public marks of attachment and respect for the Queen, who 
was applauded ; but it was easy to see that this applause 
was in fact rendered to the King alone. 

It was evident, during the first sittings, that Mirabeau 
would be very dangerous to government. It is affirmed 
that at this period he communicated to the King, and still 
more fully to the Queen, part of his schemes for abandoning 
them. He brandished the weapons afforded him by his 
eloquence and audacity, in order to make terms with the 
party he meant to attack. This man played the. game of re- 
volution to make his own fortune. The Queen told me that 
he asked for an embassy, and, if my memory does not de- 
ceive me, it was that of Constantinople. He was refused 
with well-d«served contempt, though poHcy would doubt- 
less have concealed it, could the future have been foreseen.^ 

The enthusiasm prevailing at the opening of this 
assembly, and the debates between the tiers -etat, the 
nobility, and even the clergy, daily increased the alarm of 
their Majesties, and all who were attached to the cause of 
monarchy. The Queen went to bed late, or rather she 

^ For further information on this subject the reader is referred to the 
Memoirs of Madame lunot {Duchesse d'AbranUs), vol. i. pp. 48-52 of the 
Enghsh edition, published in 1883. 



THE queen's NERVOUS TERROR 



began to be unable to rest. One evening, about the end of 
May, she was sitting in her room, relating several remark- 
able occurrences of the day ; four wax candles were placed 
upon her toilette table; the first went out of itself; I 
re-lighted it ; shortly afterwards the second, and then the 
third went out also; upon which the Queen, squeezing 
my hand in terror, said to me : " Misfortune makes us 
superstitious ; if the fourth taper should go out like the 
rest, nothing can prevent my looking upon it as a sinister 
omen." The fourth taper went out. It was remarked to 
the Queen that the four tapers had probably been run in 
the same mould, and that a defect in the wick had naturally 
occurred at the same point in each, since the candles had all 
gone out in the order in which they had been lighted. 

The deputies of the tiers-etat arrived at Versailles full of 
the strongest prejudices against the Court. They believed 
that the King indulged in the pleasures of the table to a 
shameful excess ; and that the Queen was draining the 
treasury of the State in order to satisfy the most unbridled 
luxury. They almost all determined to see Petit Trianon. 
The extreme plainness of the retreat in question not answer- 
ing the ideas they had formed, some of them insisted upon 
seeing the very smallest closets, saying that the richly- 
furnished apartments were concealed from them. They 
particularised one which, according to them, was ornamented 
with diamonds, and with wreathed columns studded with 
sapphires and rubies. The Queen could not get these 
fooHsh ideas out of her mind, and spoke to the King on 
the subject. From the description given of this room by 
the deputies to the keepers of Trianon, the King concluded 
that they were looking for the scene enriched with paste 
ornaments, made in the reign of Louis XV. for the theatre 
of Fontainebleau.^ 

^ " An idea may be formed," says Montjoie, '.'of the life led by the 



222 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

The King supposed that his Body Guards, on their return 
to the country, after their quarterly duty at Court, related 
what they had seen, and that their exaggerated accounts 
being repeated became at last totally perverted. This idea 
of the King, after the search for the diamond chamber, 
suggested to the Queen that the report of the King's 
propensity for drinking also sprang from the guards who 
accompanied his carriage when he hunted at Rambouillet. 
The King, who disliked sleeping out of his usual bed, was 
accustomed to leave that hunting seat after supper; he 
generally slept soundly in his carriage, and awoke only 
on his arrival at the courtyard of his palace ; he used 
to get down from his carriage in the midst of his Body 
Guards, staggering, as a man half awake will do, which was 
mistaken for intoxication.^ 

The majority of the deputies who came imbued with 
prejudices produced by error or malevolence went to lodge 
with the most humble private individuals of Versailles, 

Queen after the opening of the States-General by what she described to the 
Duchesse de Pohgnac. In one letter she writes : • My health still lasts, 
but my mind is overwhelmed with troubles, annoyances, and alarms.; 
every day I learn new misfortunes, and for me one of the greatest is to be 
separated from all my friends. No longer do I meet hearts that 

sympathise with me. ' In another she wrote : ' All your letters to M — 

give me great pleasure : I see at least your writing, I read that you love 
me, and that does me good. Be tranquil : adversity has not diminished 
my strength and my courage, and it has increased my prudence.'" — Note 
by the Editor. 

^ Boursault's play of ^sop at Court contains a scene in which the 
prince permits the courtiers to tell him his failings. They all join chorus 
in praising him beyond measure, with the exception of one, who reproaches 
him with getting intoxicated, a dangerous vice in any one, but especially 
in a king. Louis XV. , in whom that disgusting propensity had almost 
grown into a habit from the year 1739, found fault with Boursault's piece, 
and forbade its performance at Court. After the death of that King, 
Louis XVI. commanded ^sop at Court for performance, found the play 
full of good sense, and directed that it should be often performed before 
him. — Note by the Editor. 



DEA TH OF THE ' ' FIRST DA UPHIN ' 223 

whose inconsiderate conversation contributed not a little to 
nourish such mistakes. Everything, in short, tended to 
render the deputies subservient to the schemes of thje 
leaders of the rebellion. 

Shortly after the opening of the States-General the first 
Dauphin died. That young Prince suffered from the 
rickets, which in a few months curved his spine, and 
rendered his legs so weak that he could not walk with- 
out being supported like a feeble old man.^ How many 
maternal tears did his condition draw from the Queen, 
already overwhelmed with apprehensions respecting the 
state of the Kingdom ! Her grief was enhanced by petty 
intrigues, which, when frequently renewed, became intoler- 
able. An open quarrel between the families and friends of 
the Due d'Harcourt, the Dauphin's governor, and those of 

1 Louis, Dauphin of France, who died at Versailles on the 4th of June 
1789, gave promise of intellectual precocity. The following particulars, 
which convey some idea of his disposition, and of the assiduous attention 
bestowed upon him by the Duchesse de Polignac, will be found in a work 
of that time : — "At two years old the Dauphin was very pretty : he articu- 
lated well, and answered questions put to him intelligently. While he was 
at the Chateau de La Muette everybody was at Hberty to see him. The 
Dauphin was dressed plainly, like a sailor ; there was nothing to distinguish 
him from other children in external appearance but the cross of Saint 
Louis, the blue ribbon, and the Order of the Fleece, decorations that are 
the distinctive signs of his rank. The Duchesse Jules de Polignac, his 
governess, scarcely ever left him for a single instant : she gave up all the 
Court excursions and amusements in order to devote her whole attention 
to him. The Prince always manifested a great regard for M. de Bourset, 
his valet de chambre. During the illness of which he died, he one day 
asked for a pair of scissors ; that gentleman reminded him that they were 
forbidden. The child insisted mildly, and they were obliged to yield to 
him. Having got the scissors, he cut oflF a lock of his hair, which he 
wrapped in a sheet of paper : ' There, sir, ' said he to his valet de chambre, 
' there is the only present J can make you, having nothing at my command ; 
but when I am dead you will present this pledge to my papa and mamma ; 
and while they remember me, I hope they will not forget you.' " — Note by 
the Editor. 



224 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

the Duchesse de Polignac, his governess, added greatly to 
the Queen's affliction. The young Prince showed a strong. 
disUke to the Duchesse de Polignac, who attributed it 
either to the Due or the Duchesse d'Harcourt, and came to 
make her complaints respecting it to the Queen. The 
Dauphin twice sent her out of his room, saying to her, with 
that maturity of manner which long illness always gives to 
children r "Go out, Duchess, yoii are so fond of using 
perfumes, and they always make me ill;" and yet sh& 
never used any. The Queen perceived, also, that his 
prejudices against her friend extended to herself; her son 
would no longer speak in her presence. She knew that he 
had become fond of sweetmeats, and offered him some 
marsh-mallow and jujube lozenges. The under -governors 
and the first valet de chambre requested her not to give the 
Dauphin anything, as he was to receive no food of any. 
kind without the consent of the faculty. I forbear to 
describe the wound this prohibition inflicted upon the 
Queen ; she felt it the more deeply because she was aware 
it was unjustly believed she gave a decided preference to 
the Duke of Normandy, whose ruddy health and amiability 
did, in truth, form a striking contrast to the languid look 
and melancholy disposition of his elder brother. She even 
suspected that a plot had for some time existed to deprive 
her of the affection of a child whom she loved as a good and 
tender mother ought. Previous to the audience granted by 
the King on the loth August 1788 to the envoy of the 
Sultan Tippoo Saib, she had begged the Due d'Harcourt to 
divert the Dauphin, whose deformity was already apparent, 
from his intention to be present at that ceremony, being 
unwilling to expose him to the gaze of the crowd of inquisi- 
tive Parisians who would be in the gallery. Notwithstanding j 
this injunction the Dauphin was suffered to write to his 
mother, requesting her permission to be present at the 



FRANCE AND ENGLAND 



225 



audience. The queen was obliged to refuse him, and 
.warmly reproached the governor, who merely answered 
that he could not oppose the wishes of a sick child. A 
year before the death of the Dauphin the Queen lost the 
Princesse Sophie; this was, as the Queen said, the first of 
a series of misfortunes. 



Annex to Chapter XIII 

As Madame Campan has stated in the foregoing pages that 
the money to foment sedition was furnished from English 
sources, the decree of the Convention of August 1793 may 
be quoted as illustrative of the ente^ite cordiale alleged to 
exist between the insurrectionary Government and its friends 
across the Channel ! The endeavours made by the English 
Government to save the unfortunate King are well known. 
The motives prompting the conduct of the Due d'Orleans 
are equally well known. 

Art. i. The National Convention denounces the British Govern- 
ment to Europe and the English nation. 

Art. ii. Every Frenchman that shall place his money in the 
English funds shall be declared a traitor to his country. 

Art. iii. Every Frenchman who has money in the English funds 
or those of any other Power with whom France is at war shall be 
pbliged to declare the same. 

Art. iv. All foreigners,, subjects of the Powers now at war with 
France, particularly the English, shall be arrested, and seals put upon 
their papers. 

Art. v. The barriers of Paris shall be instantly shut. 

Art. vi. All good citizens shall be required in the name of the 
country to search for the foreigners concerned in any plot denounced. 

Art. vii. Three milHons shall be at the disposal of the Minister at 
War to facilitate the march of the garrison of Mentz to La Vendee. 

15 



226 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Art. viii. The Minister at War shall send to the army on the coast 
of Rochelle all the combustible materials necessary to set fire to the 
forests and underwood of La Vendee. 

Art. ix. The women, the children, and old men shall be conducted 
to the interior parts of the country. 

Art. X. The property of the rebels shall be confiscated for the 
benefit of the Republic. 

Art. xi. A camp shall be formed without delay between Paris and 
the Northern army. 

Art. xii. All the family of the Capets shall be banished from the 
French territory, those excepted who are under the sword of the law, 
and the offspring of Louis Capet, who shall both remain in the Temple. 

Art. xiii. Marie Antoinette shall be delivered over to the Revolu- 
tionary Tribunal, and shall be immediately conducted to the prison of 
the Conciergerie. Louise Elizabeth shall remain in the Temple till 
after the judgment of Marie Antoinette. 

Art. xiv. All the tombs of the Kings which are at Saint Denis 
and in the departments shall be destroyed on August the loth. 

Art. XV. The present decree shall be despatched by extraordinary 
couriers to all the departments. 



CHAPTER XIV ^ 

" Oath of the Tennis Court " — Insurrection of the 14th of July — The 
King goes to the National Assembly — Anecdotes — Spectacle pre- 
sented by the courtyards of the Chateau of Versailles — Report 
that the National Assembly is threatened — The King's speech 
rebutting these suspicions — Anecdotes — Disposition of the troops 
— Departure of the Comte d'Artois, the Prince de Conde, and the 
Due and Duchesse de Polignac — The latter is recognised by a 
postilion, who saves her — The King goes to Paris — Alaim at 
Versailles — The Queen determines to go to the National Assembly 
— Speech prepared by her — The King's return — Bailly's speech 
— Assassination of Messieurs Foulon and Berthier — Plans pre- 
sented by Foulon to the King for arresting the progress of the 
Revolution — Remark by Barnave — His repentance. 

The ever-memorable oath of the States-General, taken at 

1 the Tennis Court of Versailles, was followed by the royal 

I sitting of the 23d of June. In this seance the King declared 

I that the Orders must vote separately, and threatened, if 

' further obstacles were met with, to himself act for the good 

I of the people. The Queen looked on M. Necker's not 

accompanying the King as treachery or criminal cowardice : 

i she said that he had converted a remedy into poison ; that 

being in full popularity his audacity, in openly disavowing 

the step taken by his sovereign, had emboldened the factious, 

and led away the whole Assembly ; and that he was the 

•nore culpable inasmuch as he had the evening before 

liven her his word to accompany the King. In vain did 



228 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

M. Necker endeavour to excuse himself by saying that his 
advice had not been followed. 

Soon afterwards the insurrections of the nth, 12th, and 
14th of July^ opened the disastrous drama with which 
France was threatened. The massacre of M. de Flesselles 
and M. de Launay drew bitter tears from the Queen, and 
the idea that the King had lost such devoted subjects 
wounded her to the heart. 

The character of the movement was no longer merely 
that of a popular insurrection ; cries of " Vive la Nation ! 
Vive le Roi ! vive la Liberie /" threw the strongest light upon 
the views of the reformers. Still the people spoke of the 
King with affection, and appeared to think him favourable 
to the national desire for the reform of what were called 
abuses ; but they imagined that he was restrained by the 
opinions and influence of the Comte d'Artois and the 
Queen; and those two august personages were therefore 
objects of hatred to the malcontents. The dangers incurred 
by the Comte d'Artois determined the King's first step with 
the States -General. He attended their meeting on the 
morning of the 15th of July with his brothers, without pomp 
or escort ; he spoke standing and uncovered, and pro- 
nounced these memorable words : " I trust myself to you ; 
I only wish to be at one with my nation, and, counting on 
the affection and fidelity of my subjects, I have given orders 
to the troops to remove from Paris and Versailles." The 
King returned on foot from the chamber of the States- 
General to his palace ; the deputies crowded after him, and 
formed his escort, and that of the Princes who accompanied 
him. The rage of the populace was pointed against th( 
Comte d'Artois, whose unfavourable opinion of the double! 
representation was an odious crime in their eyes. They 
repeatedly cried out, " The King for ever, i?t spite of you and 
1 The Bastille was taken on the 14th July 1789. 






THE KING AND THE PEOPLE 229 

your opinions^ Monseigneur .f^ One woman had the im- 
pudence to come up to the King and ask him whether 
what he had been doing was done sincerely, and whether 
he would not be forced to retract it. 

The courtyards of the Chateau were thronged with an 
immense concourse of people; they demanded that the 
King and Queen, with their children, should make their 
appearance in the balcony. The Queen gave me the key 
of the inner doors, which led to the Dauphin's apartments, 
and desired me to go to the Duchesse de Polignac to tell 
her that she wanted her son, and had directed me to bring 
him myself into her room, where she waited to show him 
to the people. The Duchess said this order indicated that 
she was not to accompany the Prince. I did not answer ; 
she squeezed my hand, saying, " Ah ! Madame Campan, 
what a blow I receive !" She embraced the child and me 
with tears. She knew how much I loved and valued the 
goodness and the noble simplicity of her disposition. I 
endeavoured to reassure her by saying that I should bring 
back the Prince to her; but she persisted, and said she 
understood the order, and knew what it meant. She then 
retired to her private room, holding her handkerchief to 
her eyes. One of the under-governesses asked me whether 
she might go with the Dauphin; I told her the Queen 
had given no order to the contrary, and we hastened to 
her Majesty, who was waiting to lead the Prince to the 
balcony. 

Having executed this sad commission, I went down into 
the courtyard, where I mingled with the crowd. I heard a 
thousand vociferations ; it was easy to see, by the difference 
between the language and the dress of some persons among 
the mob, that they were in disguise. A woman, whose 
face was covered with a black lace veil, seized me by the 
arm with some violence, and said, caUing me by my name. 



230 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

"I know you very well; tell your Queen not to meddle 
with government any longer; let her leave her husband 
and our good States-General to effect the happiness of the 
people." At the same moment a man, dressed much in 
the style of a market man, with his hat pulled down ' over 
his eyes, seized me by the other arm, and said, " Yes, yes ; 
tell her over and over again that, it will not be with these 
States as with the others which produced no good to the 
people; that the nation is too enlightened in 1789 not to 
make something more of them ; and that there will not 
now be seen a deputy of the tiers -Hat making a speech 
with one knee on the ground; tell her this, do you hear?" 
I was struck with dread ; the Queen then appeared in the 
balcony. " Ah ! " said the woman in the veil, " the Duchess 
is not with her." " No," rephed the man, " but she is still 
at Versailles ; she is working underground, mole-like ; but 
we shall know how to dig her out." The detestable pair 
moved away from me, and I re-entered the palace, scarcely 
able to support myself I thought it my duty to relate the 
dialogue of these two strangers to the Queen ; she made 
me repeat the particulars to the King. 

About four in the afternoon I went across the terrace to 
Madame Victoire's apartments ; three men had stopped 
under the windows of the throne-chamber. " Here is that 
throne," said one of them aloud, "the vestiges of which 
will soon be sought for." He added a thousand invectives 
against their Majesties. I went in to the Princess, who 
was at work alone in her closet, behind a canvas blind, 
which prevented her from being seen by those without. 
The three men were still walking upon the terrace; I 
showed them to her, and told her what they had said, j 
She rose to take a nearer view of them, and informed me | 
that one of them was named Saint Huruge ; that he was 
sold to the Due d'Orleans, and was furious against th( 



THE STORM RISING 231 

government, because he had been confined once under a 
lettre de cachet as a bad character. 

The King was not ignorant of these popular threats ; he 
also knew the days on which money was scattered about 
Paris, and once or twice the Queen prevented my going 
there, saying there would certainly be a riot the next day, 
because she knew that a quantity of crown pieces had been 
distributed in the faubourgs.^ 

On the evening of the 1 4th of July the King came to the 
Queen's apartments, where I was with her Majesty alone : 
lie conversed with her respecting the scandalous report 
disseminated by the factious, that he had had the Chamber 
of the National Assembly undermined, in order to blow it 
up ; but he added that it became him to treat such absurd 
assertions with contempt, as usual ; I ventured to tell him 
that I had the evening before supped with M. Begouen, 
one of the deputies, who said that there were very respect- 
able persons who thought that this horrible contrivance had 
been proposed without the King's knowledge. "Then," 
said his Majesty, "as the idea of such an atrocity was not 
revolting to so worthy a man as M. Begouen, I will order 
the chamber to be examined early to-morrow morning." 
In fact, it will be seen by the King's speech to the National 
Assembly, on the 15 th of July, that the suspicions excited 
obtained his attention. " I know," said he in the speech 
in question, " that unworthy insinuations have been made ; 
I know there are those who have dared to assert that your 
persons are , not safe ; can it be necessary to give you 
assurances upon the subject of reports so culpable, denied 
beforehand by my known character?" 

^ I have seen a six-franc crown piece, which certainly served to pay 
some wretch on the night of the 12th of July ; the words ''Midnight, 
12th luly, three pistols," were rather deeply engraven on it. They were 
no doubt a password for the first insurrection. — Madame Campan. 



232 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

The proceedings of the 15 th of July produced no miti- 
gation of the disturbances. Successive deputations of 
poissardes came to request the King to visit Paris, where 
his presence alone would put an end to the insurrection. 

On the 1 6th a committee was held in the King's 
apartments, at which a most important question was dis- 
cussed : whether his Majesty should quit Versailles and 
set oif with the troops whom he had recently ordered to 
withdraw, or go to Paris to tranquillise the minds of the 
people. The Queen was for the departure. On the 
evening of the i6th she made me take all her jewels out 
of their cases, to collect them in one small box, which she 
might carry off in her own carriage. With my assistance she 
burnt a large quantity of papers ; for Versailles was then 
threatened with an early visit of armed men from Paris. 

The Queen, on the morning of the i6th, before attend- 
ing another committee at the King's, having got her jewels 
ready, and looked over all her papers, gave me one folded 
up but not sealed, and desired me not to read it until she 
should give me an order to do so from the King's room ; 
and that then I was to execute its contents ; but she re- 
turned herself about ten in the morning; the affair was 
decided ; the army was to go away without the King ; all 
those who were in imminent danger were to go at the same 
time. " The King will go to the Hotel de Ville to-morrow," 
said the Queen to me ; " he did not choose this course for 
himself; there were long debates on the question; at last 
the King put an end to them by rising and saying, ' Well^ 
gentlemen^ we must decide ; am I to go or to stay ? I am 
ready to do either.^ The majority were for the King staying ; 
time will show whether the right choice has been made." 
I returned the Queen the paper she had given me, which 
was now useless : she read it to me ; it contained her orders 
for the departure ; I was to go with her, as well on account | 

i 
I 
i 



THE queen's forebodings 233 

of my office about her person as to serve as a teacher to 
Madame. The Queen tore the paper, and said, with tears 
in her eyes, "When I wrote this I thought it would be use- 
ful, but fate has ordered otherwise, to the misfortune of us 
all, as I much fear." 

After the departure of the troops the new administration 
received thanks ; M. Necker was recalled. The artillery 
soldiers were undoubtedly corrupted. " Wherefore all these 
guns?" exclaimed the crowds of women who filled the 
streets : " will you kill your mothers, your wives, your 
children?" — "Don't be afraid," answered the soldiers; 
*' these guns shall rather be levelled against the tyrant's 
palace than against you ! " 

The Comte d'Artois, the Prince de Conde, and their 
children set off at the same time with the troops. The Due 
and Duchesse de Polignac, their daughter, the Duchesse de 
Guiche, the Comtesse Diana de Polignac, sister of the 
Duke, and the Abbe de Baliviere, ajso emigrated on the 
same night. Nothing could be more affecting than the part- 
ing of the Queen and her friend ; extreme misfortune had 
banished from their minds the recollection of differences to 
which political opinions alone had given rise. The Queen 
several times wished to go and embrace her once more after 
their sorrowful adieu, but she was too closely watched. 
She desired M. Campan to be present at the departure of 
the Duchess, and gave him a purse of five hundred louis, 
desiring him to insist upon her allowing the Queen to lend 
her that sum to defray her expenses on the road. The 
Queen added that she knew her situation ; that she had often 
calculated her income, and the expenses occasioned by her 
place at Court ; that both husband and wife having no 
other fortune than their official salaries, could not possibly 
have saved anything, however differently people might think 
at Paris. 



234 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

M. Campan remained till midnight with the Duchess to 
see her enter her carriage. She was disguised as 2ifemme 
de chambre, and got up in front of the berline ; she re- 
quested M. Campan to remember her frequently to the 
Queen, and then quitted for ever that palace, that favour, 
and that influence which had raised her up such cruel 
enemies. On their arrival at Sens the travellers found the 
people in a state of insurrection ; they asked all those who 
came from Paris whether the Polignacs were still with the 
Queen. A group of inquisitive persons put that question 
to the Abbe de Baliviere, who answered them in the 
firmest tone, and with the most cavalier air, that they were 
far enough from Versailles, and that we had got rid of all 
such bad people. At the following stage the postilion got on 
the doorstep and said to the Duchess, " Madame, there are 
some good people left in the world : I recognised you all at 
Sens." They gave the worthy fellow a handful of gold. 

On the breaking out of these disturbances an old man 
above seventy years of age gave the Queen an extraordinary 
proof of attachment and fidelity. M. Peraque, a rich in- 
habitant of the colonies, father of M. d'Oudenarde, was 
coming from Brussels to Paris ; while changing horses he 
was met by a young man who was leaving France, and who 
recommended him if he carried any letters from foreign 
countries to burn them immediately, especially if he had 
any for the Queen. M. Peraque had one from the Arch- 
duchess, the Gouvernante of the Low Countries, for her 
Majesty. He thanked the stranger, and carefully concealed 
his packet; but as he approached Paris the insurrection 
appeared to him so general and so violent, that he thought 
no means could be relied on for securing this letter from 
seizure. He took upon him to unseal it, and learned it 
by heart, which was a wonderful effort for a man at his 
time of life, as it contained four pages of writing. On his i 

! 
I 



THE KING GOES TO PARIS 



235 



arrival at Paris he wrote it down, and then presented it to 
the Queen, telling her that the heart of an old and faithful 
subject had given him courage to form and execute such a 
resolution. The Queen received M. Peraque in her closet, 
and expressed her gratitude in an affecting manner most 
honourable to the worthy old man. Her Majesty thought 
the young stranger who had apprised him of the state of 
Paris was Prince George of Hesse -Darmstadt, who was 
very devoted to her, and who left Paris at that time. 

The Marquise de Tourzel replaced the Duchesse de 
Polignac. She was selected by the Queen as being the 
mother of a family and a woman of irreproachable conduct, 
who had superintended the education of her own daughters 
with the greatest success. 

The King went to Paris on the 17th of July, accompanied 
by the Marechal de Beauvau, the Due de Villeroi, and the 
Due de Villequier j he also took the Comte d'Estaing, and 
the Marquis de Nesle, who were then very popular, in his 
carriage. Twelve Body Guards, and the town guard of 
Versailles, escorted him to the Pont du Jour, near Sevres, 
where the Parisian guard was waiting for him. His departure 
caused equal grief and alarm to his friends, notwithstanding 
the calmness he exhibited. The Queen restrained her 
tears, and shut herself up in her private rooms with her 
family. She sent for several persons belonging to her Court ; 
their doors were locked. Terror had driven them away. 
The silence of death reigned throughout the Palace ; they 
hardly dared hope that the King would return.^ The 
Queen had a robe prepared for her, and sent orders to her 
stables to have all her equipages ready. She wrote an 
address of a few lines for the Assembly, determining to go 
there with her family, the officers of her Palace, and her 
servants, if the King should be detained prisoner at Paris. 

1 See Ferrieres' Memoirs. 



236 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

She got this address by heart ; it began with these words : 
" Gentlemen, I come to place in your hands the wife and 
family of your sovereign ; do not suffer those who have been 
united in Heaven to be put asunder on earth." While she 
was repeating this address she was often interrupted by 
tears, and sorrowfully exclaimed : " They will not let him 
return /" 

It was past four when the King, who had left Versailles 
at ten in the morning, entered the Hotel de Ville. At 
length, at six in the evening, M. de Lastours, the King's first 
page, arrived ; he was not half an hour in coming from the 
Barriere de la Confe'rence to Versailles. Everybody knows 
that the moment of calm in Paris was that in w^ich the un- 
fortunate sovereign received the tricoloured cockade from 
M. Bailly, and placed it in his hat. A shout of *' Vive le 
Roi !'' arose on all sides.; it had not been once uttered 
before. The King breathed again, and with tears in his 
eyes exclaimed that his heart stood in need of such greetings 
from the people. One of his equerries (M. de Cubi^res) 
told him the people loved him, and that he could never 
have doubted it. The King replied in accents of profound 
sensibility : " Cubieres, the French loved Henri IV., and 
what King ever better deserved to be beloved?"^ 

His return to Versailles filled his family with inexpressible 

^ Louis XVI. cherished the memory of Henri IV. : at that moment he 
thought of his deplorable.end ; but he long before regarded him as a model. 
Soulavie says on the subject : "A tablet with the inscription Resurrexit 
placed upon the pedestal of Henri IV. 's statue on the accession of Louis 
XVI. flattered him exceedingly, ' What a fine compliment,' said he, 'if 
it were true ! Tacitus himself never wrote anything so concise or so happy. ' 
Louis XVI. wished to take the reign of that Prince for a model. In the 
following year the party that raised a commotion among the people on 
account of the dearness of corn removed the tablet inscribed Resurrexit 
from the statue of Henri IV., and placed it under that of Louis XV., whose 
memory was then detested, as he was believed to have traded on the 
scarcity of food. Louis XVI. , who was informed of it, withdrew into h-is | 

! 



MURDER OF M. FOULON 237 

joy ; in the arms of the Queen, his sister, and his children, 
he congratulated himself that no accident had happened ; 
and he repeated several times, " Happily no blood has been 
shed, and I swear that never shall a drop of French blood 
be shed by my order," — a determination full of humanity, 
: but too openly avowed in such factious times ! 

The King's last measure raised a hope in many that 
j general tranquillity would soon enable the Assembly to 
'; resume its labours, and promptly bring its session to a close. 
j The Queen never flattered herself so far ; M. Bailly's speech 
3 to the King had equally wounded her pride and hurt her 
; feelings — " Henri IV. conquered his people, and here are 
I the people conquering their King." The word ''^ conqtcest^^ 
:i offended her ; she never forgave M. Bailly for this fine 
\ academical phrase. 

\ Five days after the King's visit to Paris, the departure 
• of the troops, and the removal of the Princes and some of 
the nobility whose influence seemed to alarm the people, a 
horrible deed committed by hired assassins proved that the 
King had descended the steps of his throne without having 
effected a reconciliation with his people. 

M. Foulon, adjoint to the administration while M. de 
Broglie was commanding the army assembled at Versailles, 
had concealed himself at Viry. He was there recognised, 
and the peasants seized him, and dragged him to the Hotel 
de Ville. The cry for death was heard ; the electors, the 
members of committee, and M. de La Fayette, at that time 

private apartments, where he was found in a fever shedding tears ; and 
during the whole of that day he could not be prevailed upon either to dine, 
walk out, or sup. From this circumstance we may judge what he endured 
at the commencement of the Revolution, when he was accused of not 
-loving the French people." ^ — -Note by the Editor. 

1 This phrase, Eesiirrexit, may be compared with the Ltidovico Reduce, 
Henricus Redivivus, prepared by Beugnotfor a copy of the same statue on the arrival 
of Louis XVIII. at Paris in 1814. — See Betignot, vol. ii. p. 137. 



238 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 



the idol of Paris, in vain endeavoured to save the unfor- 
tunate man. After tormenting him in a manner which 
makes humanity shudder, his body was dragged about the 
streets, and to the Palais Royal, and his heart was carried 
by women in the midst of a bunch of white carnations ! M. 
Berthier, M. Foulon's son-in-law, intendant of Paris, was 
seized at Compiegne, at the same time that his father-in-law 
was seized at Viry, and treated with still more relentless 
cruelty. 

The Queen was always persuaded that this horrible deed 
was occasioned by some indiscretion ; and she informed 
me that M. Foulon had drawn up two memorials for the 
direction of the King's conduct at the time of his being 
called to Court on the removal of M. Necker; and that 
these memorials contained two schemes of totally different 
nature for extricating the King from the dreadful situation 
in which he was placed. In the first of these projects M. 
Foulon expressed himself without reserve respecting the 
criminal views of the Due d'Orleans ; said that he ought to 
be put under arrest, and that no time should be lost in 
commencing a prosecution against him, while the criminal 
tribunals were still in existence ; he likewise pointed out 
such deputies as should be apprehended, and advised the 
King not to separate himself from his army until order was 
restored. . 

His other plan was that the King should make himself 
master of the revolution before its complete explosion ; he 
advised his Majesty to go to the Assembly, and there, in 
person, to demand the cahiers^ and to make the greatest 
sacrifices to satisfy the legitimate wishes of the people, and 
not to give the factious time to enlist them in aid of their 

1 Cahiers, the memorials or list of complaints, grievances, and require- 
ments of the electors drawn up by the primary assemblies and sent with 
the deputies. 



REMORSE OF BARNA VE 239 

criminal designs. Madame Adelaide had M. Foulon's two 
memorials read to her in the presence of four or five 
persons. One of them, Comte Louis de Narbonne, was 
very intimate with Madame de Stael, and that intimacy 
gave the Queen reason to believe that the opposite party 
had gained information of M. Foulon's schemes. 

It is known that young Barnave, during an aberration of 
mind, since expiated by sincere repentance, and even by 
death, uttered these atrocious words : " Is then the blood 
now flowing so pureV when M. Berthier's son came to the 
Assembly to implore the eloquence of M. de Lally to 
entreat that body to save his father's hfe. I have since 
been informed that a son of M. Foulon, having returned to 
France after these first ebullitions of the Revolution, saw 
Barnave, and gave him one of those memorials in which 
M. Foulon advised Louis XVI. to prevent the revolutionary 
explosion by voluntarily granting all that the Assembly re- 
quired before the 14th of July. "Read this memorial," 
said he : "I have brought it to increase your remorse : it 
is the only revenge I wish to inflict on you." Barnave 
burst into tears, and said to him all that the profoundest 
grief could dictate. 




CHAPTER XV 

Creation of the national guard — Departure of the Abbe de Vermond 
— The Queen desires Madame Campan to portray his character — 
The French guards quit Versailles — Entertainment given by the 
Body Guards to the regiment of Flanders — The King, the Queen, 
and the Dauphin are present at it — Proceedings of the 5th and 6th 
of October — Detestable threats against the Queen — Devotedness 
of one of the Body Guard — The life of Marie Antoinette in danger 
— The Queen is required to appear on the balcony — The royal 
family repair to Paris — Residence at the Tuileries — Change of 
feeling — The Queen applauded with enthusiasm by the women of 
the populace — Private life — Ingenuous observations of the 
Dauphin — It is proposed that the Queen shall quit her family and 
France — Her noble refusal — She devotes herself to the education 
of her children — Picture of the Court — Anecdote of Luckner — 
Exasperated state of feeling. 

After the 14th of July, by a manoeuvre for which the most 
skilful factions of any age might have envied the Assembly, 
the whole, population of France was armed and organised 
into a national guard. A report was spread throughout 
France on the same day, and almost at the same hour, that 
four thousand brigands were marching towards such towns 
or villages as it was wished to induce to take arms.^ Never 
was any plan better laid ; terror spread at the same moment 
all over the kingdom. In 1791 a peasant showed me a 
steep rock in the mountains of the Mont d'Or on which his 

1 For an account of the local effects of this strange general panic, seel 
\hs, Memoirs of Beugnot, vol. i. p. 120. 






THE NATIONAL GUARD 241 

wife concealed herself on the day when the four thousand 
brigands were to attack their village, and told me they had 
been obliged to make use of ropes to let her down from the 
height which fear alone had enabled her to cHmb. 

Versailles was certainly the place where the national 
military uniform appeared most offensive. All the King's 
valets, even of the lowest class, were metamorphosed into 
lieutenants or captains; almost all the musicians of the 
chapel ventured one day to make their appearance at the 
King's mass in a military costume ; and an Italian soprano 
adopted the uniform of a grenadier captain. The King was 
very much offended at this conduct, and forbade his 
servants to appear in his presence in so unsuitable a dress. 

The departure of the Duchesse de Polignac naturally 
left the Abbe de Vermond exposed to all the dangers of 
I favouritism. He was already talked of as an adviser 
(dangerous to the nation. The Queen was alarmed at it, 
jand recommended him to remove to Valenciennes, where 
Count Esterhazy was in command. He was obliged to 
leave that place in a few days and set off for Vienna, where 
he remained. 

On the night of the 17th of July the Queen, being un- 
able to sleep, made me watch by her until three in the 
morning. I was extremely surprised to hear her say that 
'it would be a very long time before the Abbe de Vermond 
, would make his appearance at Court again, even if the 
j existing ferment should subside, because he would not 
I ^^adily be forgiven for his attachment to the Archbishop of 
jSens '^ and that she had lost in him a very devoted servant. 
jThen she suddenly remarked to me, that although he was 
I lot much prejudiced against me I could not have much 
regard for him, because he could not bear my father-in-law 

■■• Cardinal Lomdnie de Brienne, the dismissed minister. 
16 



242 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

to hold the place of secretary of the closet. She went on to 
say that I must have studied the Abbe's character, and, as 
I had sometimes drawn her portraits of living characters, in 
imitation of those which were fashionable in the time of 
Louis XIV., she desired me to sketch that of the Abbe, 
without any reserve. My astonishment was extreme ; the 
Queen spoke of the man who, the day before, had been in 
the greatest intimacy with her with the utmost coolness, and 
as a person whom, perhaps, she might never see again ! 
I remained petrified; the Queen persisted, and told me 
that he had been the enemy of my family for more than 
twelve years, without having been able to injure it in her 
opinion; so that I had no occasion to dread his return, 
however severely I might depict him. I promptly sum- 
marised my ideas about the favourite ; but I only remember 
that the portrait was drawn with sincerity, except that 
everything which could denote antipathy was kept out of 
it. I shall make but one extract from it : I said that he 
had been born talkative and indiscreet, and had assumed 
a character of singularity and abruptness in order to conceal 
those two failings. The .Queen interrupted me by saying, 
"Ah! how true that is!" I have since discovered that, 
notwithstanding the high favour which the Abbe d 
Vermond enjoyed, the Queen took precautions to guari 
herself against an ascendency the consequences of whic 
she could not calculate. 

On the death of my father-in-law his executors placed ii 
my hands a box containing a few jewels deposited by th( 
Queen with M. Campan on the departure from VersaiHe 
of the 6th of October, and two sealed packets, each in 
scribed, " Ca?npa?i will take care of these papers for me. 
I took the two packets to her Majesty, who kept the jewel 
and the larger packet, and returning me the smaller, saic 
" Take care of that for me as your father-in-law did." 

I 



THE ABbA'S ultimatum 243 

After the fatal loth of August 1792/ when my house 
was about to be surrounded, I determined to burn the most 
interesting papers of which I was the depositary ; I thought 
it my duty, however, to open this packet, which it might 
perhaps be necessary for me to preserve at all hazards. I 
saw that it contained a letter from the Abbe de Vermond 
to the Queen. I have already related that in the earlier 
! days of Madame de Polignac's favour he determined to 
remove from Versailles, and that the Queen recalled him 
I by means of the Comte de Mercy. This letter contained 
I nothing but certain conditions for his return ; ,it was the 
, most whimsical of treaties ; I confess" I greatly regretted 
I being under the necessity of destroying it. He reproached 
the Queen for her infatuation for the Comtesse Jules, her 
1 family, and society ; and told her several truths about the 
i possible consequences of a friendship which ranked that 
lady among the favourites of the Queens of France, a title 
'1 always disliked by the nation. He complained that his 
advice was neglected ; and then came to the conditions of 
his return to Versailles; after strong assurances that he 
would never, in all his life, aim at the higher church dig- 
nities, he said that he delighted in an unbounded confidence, 
jan4 that he asked but two things of her Majesty as essential: 
I the first was, not to give him her orders through any third 
I person, and to write to him herself; he complained much 
':hat he had had no letter in her own hand since he had 
j eft Vienna ; then he demanded of her an income of eighty 
1 ^ousand livres, in ecclesiastical benefices ; and concluded 
|)y saying that if she condescended to assure him herself 
that she would set about procuring him what he wished, 
jier letter would be sufficient in itself to show him that her 
vlajesty had accepted the two conditions he ventured to 

^ The day of the attack on the Tuileries, slaughter of the Swiss guard, 
nd suspension of the King from his functions. 



244 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

make respecting his return. No doubt the letter was 
written ; at least it is very certain that the benefices were 
granted, and that his absence from Versailles lasted only a 
single week. 

In the course of July 1789 the regiment of French 
guards, which had been in a state of insurrection from the 
latter end of June, abandoned its colours. One single 
company of grenadiers remained faithful to its post at Ver- 
sailles. M. the Baron de Leval was the captain of this 
company. He came every evening to request me to give 
the Queen an account of the disposition of his soldiers ; 
but M. de La Fayette having sent them a note, they all 
deserted during the night and joined their comrades, who 
were enrolled in the Paris guard ; so that Louis XVL on 
rising saw no guard whatever at the various posts entrusted 
to them. 

The decrees of the 4th of August, by which all privileges 
were abolished, are well known. ^ The King sanctioned 

1 " It was during the night of the 4th of August," says Rivarol, " that 
the demagogues of the nobihty, wearied with a protracted discussion upon 
the rights of man, and burning to signahse their zeal, rose -all at once, and 
with loud exclamations called for the last sighs of the feudal system. This 
demand electrified the Assembly. All heads were frenzied. The younger 
sons of good families, having nothing, were delighted to sacrifice their too 
fortunate elders upon the altar of the country ; a few country curt^s felt no 
less pleasure in renouncing the benefices of others ; but what posterity will 
hardly beheve is that the same enthusiasm infected the whole nobility ; zeal 
walked hand in hand with malevolence ; they made sacrifice upon sacrifice. 
And as in Japan the point of honom- lies in a man's killing himself in the 
presence of the person who has offended him, so did the deputies of the 
nobility vie in striking at themselves and their constituents. The pecplt 
who were present at this noble contest increased the intoxication of theil 
new allies by their shouts ; and the deputies of the commons, seeing tha 
this memorable night would only afford them profit without honour, 
consoled their self-love by wondering at what Nobility, grafted upon tin 
Third Estate, could do. They named that night the night of dupes ; tin 
nobles called it the night of sacrifices. " — Note by the Editor. 



THE MILITARY BANQUET 245 

all that tended to the diminution of his own personal 
gratifications, but refused his consent to the other decrees 
of that tumultuous night ; this refusal was one of the chief 
causes of the ferments of the month of October. 

In the early part of September meetings were h^ld at 
the Palais Royal, and propositions made to go to Versailles : 
it was said to be necessary to separate the King from his 
evil counsellors, and keep him, as well as the Dauphin, at 
the Louvre. The proclamations by the officers of the 
commune for the restoration of tranquillity were ineffectual ; 
but M. de La Fayette succeeded this time in dispersing 
the populace. The Assembly declared itself permanent ; 
and during the whole of September, in which no doubt 
the preparations were made for the great insurrections of 
the following month, the Court was not disturbed. 

The King had the Flanders regiment removed to Ver- 
sailles ; unfortunately the idea of the officers of that regiment 
, fraternising with the Body Guards was conceived, and the 
1 latter invited the former to a dinner, which was given in 
the great theatre of Versailles, and not in the Salon of 
Hercules, as some chroniclers say. Boxes were appropriated 
1 to various persons who wished to be present at this enter- 
j tainment. The Queen told me she had been advised to 
j make her appearance on the occasion ; but that, under 
I existing circumstances, she thought such a step might do 
; more harm than good; and that, moreover, neither she nor 
i the King ought directly to have anything to do with such a 
festival. She ordered me to go, and desired me to observe 
everything closely, in order to give a faithful account of the 
whole affair. 

The tables were set out upon the stage ; at them were 
placed one of the Body Guard and an officer of the Flanders 
regiment alternately. There was a numerous orchestra in 
the room, and the boxes were filled with spectators. The 



246 PRIVATE LIFE OF. MARIE ANTOINETTE 

air, " O Richard ! 6 mon Roi !^^ was played, and shouts of 
" Vive le Roi" shook the roof for several minutes. I had 
with me one of my nieces, and a young person brought up 
with Madame by her Majesty. They were crying " Vive le 
i?^/"%ith all their might when a deputy of the Third 
Estate, who was in the next box to mine, and whom I had 
never seen, called to them, and reproached them for their 
exclamations; it hurt him, he said, to see young and 
handsome Frenchwomen brought up in such servile habits, 
screaming so outrageously for the life of one man, and 
with true fanaticism exalting him in their hearts above 
even their dearest relations : he told them what contempt 
worthy American women would feel on seeing Frenchwomen 
thus corrupted from their earliest infancy. My niece 
rephed with tolerable spirit, and I requested the deputy to 
put an end to the subject,, which could by no means afford 
him any satisfaction, inasmuch as the young persons who 
were with me lived, as well as myself, for the sole purpose 
of serving and loving the King. While I was speaking 
what was my astonishment at seeing the King, the Queen, 
and the Dauphin enter the chamber ! It was M. de 
Luxembourg who had effected this change in the Queen's 
determination. 

The enthusiasm became general ; the moment their 
Majesties arrived the orchestra repeated the air I have just 
mentioned, and afterwards played a song in the Deserter, 
" Can we grieve those whom we loveV^ which also made a 
powerful impression upon those present : on all sides were 
heard praises of their Majesties, exclamations of affection, 
expressions of regret for what they had suffered, clapping 
of hands, and shouts of '"''Vive le Roi, vive la Reine, vive 
le Dauphin I " It has been said that white cockades were 
worn on this occasion ; that was not the case ; the fact is, 
that a few young men belonging to the National Guard of 



AN EXPIRING GLEAM OF LOYALTY 247 

Versailles, who were invited to the entertainment, turned 
the white lining of their national cockades outwards. All 
the military men quitted the hall, and reconducted the 
King and his family to their apartments. There was 
intoxication in these ebullitions of joy : a thousand extra- 
vagances were committed by the military, and many of 
them danced under the King's windows ; a soldier belong- 
ing to the Flanders regiment climbed up to the balcony of 
the King's chamber in order to shout " Vive le Roi^'' nearer 
his Majesty ; this very soldier, as I have been told by 
several officers of the corps, was one of the first and most" 
dangerous of their insurgents in the riots of the 5th and 
6th of October. On the same evening another soldier of 
that regiment killed himself with a sword. One of my 
relations, chaplain to the Queen, who supped with me, saw 
him stretched out in a corner of the Place d'Armes ; he 
went to him to give him spiritual assistance, and received his 
confession and his last sighs. He destroyed himself out of 
regret at having suffered himself to be corrupted by the 
enemies of his King, and said that, since he had seen him 
and the Queen and the Dauphin, remorse had turned his 
brain. 

I returned home, delighted with all that I had seen. I 
found a great many people there. M. de Beaumetz, 
deputy for Arras, listened to my description with a chilling 
air, and when I had finished, told me that all that had 
passed was terrific; that he knew the disposition of the 
Assembly, and that the greatest misfortunes would follow 
the drama of that night ; and he begged my leave to withdraw 
that he might take time for deliberate reflection whether he 
should on the very next day emigrate, or pass over to the 
left side of the Assembly. He adopted the latter course, 
and never appeared again among my associates. 

On the 2d of October the mihtary entertainment was, 



248 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

followed up by a breakfast given at the hotel of the Body 
Guards. It is said that a discussion took place whether 
they should not march against the Assembly; but I am 
utterly ignorant of what passed at that breakfast. From 
that moment Paris was constantly in commotion ; there 
were continual mobs, and the most virulent proposals were 
heard in all public places ; the conversation was invariably 
about proceeding to Versailles. The King and Queen did 
not seem apprehensive of such a measure, and took no 
precaution against it ; even when the army had actually left 
'Paris, on the evening of the 5th of October, the King was 
shooting at Meudon, and the Queen was alone in her 
gardens at Trianon, which she then beheld for the last time 
in her life. She was sitting in her grotto absorbed in 
painful reflection, when she received a note from the 
Comte de Saint Priest, entreating her to return to Ver- 
sailles. M. de Cubieres at the same time went off to 
request the King to leave his sport and return to the 
Palace ; the King did so on horseback, and very leisurely. 
A few minutes afterwards he was informed that a numerous 
body of women, which preceded the Parisian army, was at 
Chaville, at the entrance of the avenue from Paris. 

The scarcity of bread and the entertainment of the Body 
Guards were the pretexts for the insurrection of the 5th and 
6th of October 1789 ; but it is clear to demonstration that 
this new movement of the people was a part of the original 
plan of the factious, insomuch as, ever since the beginning 
of September, a report had been industriously circulated 
that the King intended to withdraw, with his family and 
ministers, to some stronghold ; and at all the popular assem- 
blies there had been always a great deal said about going to 
Versailles to seize the King. 

At first only women showed themselves; the latticed 
doors of the Chateau were closed, and the Body Guard and 



LA FAYETTE AND THE KING 249 

Flanders regiment were drawn up in the Place d'Armes. 
As the details of that dreadful day are given with precision 
in several works, I will only observe that general conster- 
nation and disorder reigned throughout the interior of the 
Palace. 

I was not in attendance on the Queen at this time. M. 
Campan remained with her till two in the morning. As he 
was leaving her she condescendingly, and with infinite 
kindness, desired him to make me easy as to the dangers of 
the moment, and to repeat to me M. de La Fayette's own 
words, which he had just used on soliciting the royal family 
to retire to bed, undertaking to answer for his army. 

The Queen was far from relying upon M. de La 
Fayette's loyalty; but she has often told me that she 
believed on that day that La Fayette, having affirmed to 
the King, in the presence of a crowd of witnesses, that he 
would answer for the army of Paris, would not risk his 
honour as a commander, and was sure of being able to 
redeem his pledge. She also thought the Parisian army 
was devoted to him, and that all he said about his being 
forced to march upon Versailles was mere pretence. 

On the first intimation of the march of the Parisians the 
Comte de Saint Priest prepared Rambouillet for the recep- 
tion of the King, his family, and suite, and the carriages 
were even drawn out; but a few cries of " Vive le Roil" 
when the women reported his Majesty's favourable answer, 
occasioned the intention of going away to be given up, and 
orders were given to the troops to withdraw.^ The Body 
Guards were, however, assailed with stones and musketry 
I ' • 

i ^ Compare this account with the particulars given in the Memoirs of 
i Ferriferes, Weber, Bailly, and Saint Priest, from the latter of which the 
following sentence is taken : — 

" M. d'Estaing knew not what to do with the Body Guards beyond 
I bringing them into the courtyard of the ministers, and shutting the grilles. 



250 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

while they were passing from the Place d'Armes to their 
hotel. Alarm revived ; again it was thought necessary that 
the royal family should go away; some carriages still 
remained ready for travelling; they were called for; they 
were stopped by a wretched player belonging to the theatre 
of the town, seconded by the mob : the opportunity for 
flight had been lost. 

The insurrection was directed against the Queen in 
particular ; I shudder even now at the recollection of the 
poissardes, or rather furies, who wore white aprons, which 
they screamed out were intended to receive the bowels of 
Marie Antoinette, and that they would make cockades of 
them, mixing the most obscene expressions with these 
horrible threats. 

The Queen went to bed at two in the morning, and 
even slept, tired out with the events of so distressing a day. 
She had ordered her two women to go to bed, imagining 
there was nothing to dread, at least for that night ; but the 
unfortunate Princess was indebted for her life to that feeling 
of attachment which prevented their obeying her. My 
sister, who was one of the ladies in question, informed me 
next day of all that I am about to relate. 

On leaving the Queen's bed-chamber these ladies called 
tYi&ixfemmes de chamhre^ and all four remained sitting together 
against her Majesty's bedroom door. About half-past four 
in the morning they heard horrible yells and discharges of 
firearms ; one ran to the Queen to awaken her and get her 
out of bed ; my sister flew to the place from which . the 

Thence they proceeded to the terrace of the Chateau, then to Trianon, and 
lastly to Rambouillet, 

1 could not refrain from expressing to M. d'Est^ng when he came to 
the King my astonishment at not seeing him make any military disposition. | 
''Sir," replied he, "/ amait the orders of the King" (who did not open | 
his mouth). " When the King gives no orders," pursued I, '' a general j 
should decide for hiitiself in a soldierly manner." This observation | 
remained unanswered. . ' ' 



THE queen's escape 251 

tumult seemed to proceed; she opened the door of the 
antechamber which leads to the great guard -room, and 
beheld one of the Body Guard holding his musket across 
the door, and attacked by a mob, who were striking at 
him; his face was covered with blood; he turned round 
and exclaimed : " Save the Queen, madame ; they are come 
to assassinate her.'' She hastily shut the door upon the 
unfortunate victim of duty, fastened it with the great bolt, 
and took the same precaution on leaving the next room. 
On reaching the Queen's chamber she cried out to her, 
" Get up, Madame ; donU stay to dress yourself; fly to the 
King's apartment." The terrified Queen threw herself out 
of bed ; they put a petticoat upon her without tying it, and 
the two ladies conducted her towards the ceil-de-boeuf?- A 
door, which led from the Queen's dressing-room to that 
apartment, had never before been fastened but on her side. 
What a dreadful moment ! it was found to be secured on 
the other side. They knocked repeatedly with all their 
strength ; a servant of one of the King's valets de chambre 
came and opened it; the Queen entered the King's 
chamber, but he was not there. Alarmed for the Queen's 
life, he had gone down the staircases and through the 
corridors under the ceil-de-boeuf, by means of which he was 
accustomed to go to the Queen's apartments without being 
under the necessity of crossing that room. He entered her 
Majesty's room and found no one there but some Body 
Guards, who had taken refuge in it. The King, unwilling 
to expose their lives, told them to wait a few minutes, and 
afterwards sent to desire them to go to the ceil-de-boeif. 
Madame de Tourzel, at that time governess of the Children 
of France, had just taken Madame and the Dauphin to the 
King's apartments. The Queen saw her children again. 

^ The celebrated antechamber at Versailles, lighted by a bull's eye or 
circular window. 



252 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

The reader must imagine this scene of tenderness and 
despair. 

It is not true that the assassins penetrated to the 
Queen's (Chamber and pierced the bed with their swords. 
The fugitive Body Guards were the only persons who en- 
tered it ; and if the crowd had reached so far they would 
all have been massacred. Besides, when the rebels had 
forced the doors of the antechamber the footmen and 
officers on duty, knowing that the Queen was no longer in 
her apartments, told them so with that air of truth which 
always carries conviction. The ferocious horde instantly 
rushed towards the oeil-de-bosuf, hoping, no doubt, to inter- 
cept her on her way. 

Many have asserted that they recognised the Due 
d'Orleans in a greatcoat and slouched hat, at half-past four 
in the morning, at the top. of the marble staircase, pointing 
out with his hand the guard-room, which led to the Queen's 
apartments. This fact was deposed to at the Chatelet by 
several individuals in the course of the inquiry instituted 
respecting the transactions of the 5th and 6th of October.^ 

The prudence and honourable feeling of several officers 
of the Parisian guards, and the judicious conduct of M. 
de Vaudreuil, Heutenant -general of marine, and of M. de 
Chevanne, one of the King's guards, brought about an 
understanding between the grenadiers of the national guard 
of Paris and the King's guard. The doors of the ml-de- 
bceiif were closed, and the antechamber which precedes 

1 The National- Assembly was sitting when information of the march , 
of the Parisians was given to it by one of the deputies who came from 
Paris. A certain number of the members were no strangers to this move- 
ment. It appears that Mirabeau wished to avail himself of it to raise the 
Due d' Orleans to the throne. Mounier, who presided over the National 
Assembly, rejected the idea with horror : " My good man," said Mirabeau 
to him, "what difference will it make to you to have Louis XVI L for your \ 
King instead of Louis XVI. ?" [The Due d'OrMans was baptized Louis;] [ 

I 



SCENES AT VERSAILLES 253 

that room was filled with grenadiers who wanted to get in 
to massacre the guards. M. de Chevanne offered himself 
to them as a victim if they wished for one, and demanded 
what they would have. A report had been spread through 
their ranks that the Body Guards set them at defiance, 
and that they all wore black cockades. M. de Chevanne 
showed them that he wore, as did the corps, the cockade 
of their uniform ; and promised that the guards should ex- 
change it for that of the nation. This was done ; they 
even went so far as to exchange the grenadiers' caps for 
the hats of the Body Guards ; those who were on guard 
took off" their shoulder-belts ; embraces and transports of 
fraternisation instantly succeeded to the savage eagerness 
to murder the band which had shown so much fidelity to 
its sovereign. The cry was now " Vivent le Roi^ la Nation, 
et les Gardes-du-corps /" 

The army occupied the Place d'Armes, all the court- 
yards of the Chateau, and the entrance to the avenue. 
They called for the Queen to appear in the balcony : she 
came forward with Madame and the Dauphin. There was 
a cry of " No children P Was this with a view to deprive 
her of the interest she inspired, accompanied as she was by 
her young family, or did the leaders of the democrats hope 
that some madman would venture to aim a mortal blow at 
her person ? The unfortunate Princess certainly was im- 
pressed with the latter idea, for she sent away her children, 
and with her hands and eyes raised towards Heaven, 
advanced upon the balcony like a self-devoted victim. 

A few voices shouted " To Paris ! " The exclamation 
soon became general. Before the King agreed to this re- 
moval he wished to consult the National Assembly, and 
caused that body to be invited to sit at the Chateau. 
Mirabeau opposed this measure. While these discussions 
were going forward it became more and more difiicult to 



254 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

restrain the immense disorderly multitude. The King, with- 
out consulting any one, now said to the people : " You wish, 
my children, that I should follow you to Paris : I consent, 
but on condition that I shall not be separated from my wife 
and family." The King added that he required safety also 
for his guards ; he was answered by shouts of " Vive le Roi, 
vivent les Gardes-du-corps I " The Guards, with their hats 
in the air, turned so as to exhibit the cockade, shouted 
" Vive le Roi, vive la Nation f^ shortly afterwards a general 
discharge of all the muskets took place, in token of joy. 
The King and Queen set off from Versailles at one o'clock. 
The Dauphin, Madame, the King's daughter, Monsieur, 
Madame,^ Madame Elizabeth, and Madame de Tourzel, 
were in the carriage; the Princesse de Chimay, and the 
ladies of the bed-chamber for the week, the King's suite 
and servants, followed in Court carriages ; a hundred 
deputies in carriages, and the bulk of the Parisian army, 
closed the procession. 

The poissardes went before and around the carriage of 
their Majesties, crying, " We shall no longer want bread — 
we have the baker, the baker's wife, and the baker's boy 
with us." In the midst of this troop of cannibals the heads 
of two murdered Body Guards were carried on poles. The 
monsters, who made trophies of them, conceived the horrid 
idea of fojcing a wigmaker of Sevres to dress them up, and 
powder their bloody locks. The unfortunate man who was 
forced to perform this dreadful work died in consequence 
of the shock it gave him.^ 

The progress of the procession was so slow that it was 

1 Madame here the wife of Monsieur le Comte de Provence. 

- Thiers's Rdvolution Frangaise, tome i., page 85, says that La Fayette 
' ' had given orders for disarming the brigands who carried the heads of two 
of the Body Guards at the end of their pikes. This horrible trophy was 
torn from them, and it is not true that it preceded the King's carriage." 
The Due d' Orleans in his account says, "In going to Versailles at eight 



DEMEANOUR OF THE QUEEN 255 

near six in the evening when this august family, made 
prisoners by their own people, arrived at the Hotel de 
Ville.^ Bailly received them there ; they were placed upon 

in the morning all seemed quiet till I got to the Bridge of Sfevres, there I 
met the heads of those unhappy victims of the fury of the people." — 
Anecdotes of the Reign of Louis XVI, 

1 The King did not leave Versailles till one o'clock. The Queen, the 

Dauphin, Madame Royale, Monsieur, Madame Elizabeth, and Madame 

de Tourzel were in his Majesty's carriage. The hundred deputies in their 

carriages came next. A detachment of brigands, bearing the heads of the 

two Body Guards in triumph, formed the advance guard, and set out 

two hours earlier. These cannibals stopped a moment at Sevres, and 

carried their cruelty to the length of forcing an unfortunate hairdresser to 

dress the gory heads ; the bulk of the Parisian army followed them closely. 

The King's carriage was preceded by the poissardes, who had arrived the 

day before from Paris, and a rabble of prostitutes, the vile refuse of their 

i sex, still drunk with fury and wine. Several of them rode astride upon 

I cannons, boasting, in the most horrible songs, of the crimes they had com- 

I mitted themselves, or seen others commit. Those who were nearest the 

King's carriage sang ballads, the allusions in which by means of their 

I vulgar gestures they applied to the Queen. Waggons, full of corn and 

j flour, which had been brought into Versailles, formed a train escorted by 

grenadiers, and surrounded by women and bullies, some armed with pikes, 

and some carrying long branches of poplar. At some distance this part of 

the procession had a most singular effect : it looked like a moving forest, 

i amidst which shone pike-heads and gun-barrels. In the paroxysms of 

j their brutal joy the women stopped passengers, and pointing to the King's 

j carriage howled in their ears : ' ' Cheer up, friends ; we shall no longer be 

I in want of bread : we bring you the baker, the baker's wife, and the 

I baker's httle boy." Behind his Majesty's carriage were several of his 

i faithful guards, some on foot, and some on horseback, most of them 

1 uncovered, all unarmed, and worn out with hunger and fatigue ; the 

j'iragoons, the Flanders regiment, the hundred Swiss, and the national 

I guards, preceded, accompanied, or followed the file of carriages. I wit- 

' nessed this heartrending spectacle ; I saw the ominous procession. In the 

I midst of all the tumult, clamour, and singing, interrupted by frequent dis- 

, charges of musketry, which the hand of a monster or a bungler might so 

(easily render fatal, I saw the Queen preserving most courageous tranquilHty 

of soul, and an air of nobleness and inexpressible dignity, and my eyes 

were suffused with tears of admiration and grief. — Memoirs of Bertra?id de 

\ Molleville. 



256 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

a throne, just when that of their ancestors had been over- 
thrown. The King spoke in a firm yet gracious manner : 
he said that he always came with pleasure and confidence 
among the inhabita7its of his good city of Paris. M. Bailly 
repeated this observation to the representatives of the 
commune, who came to address the King ; but he forgot the 
word confidence. The Queen instantly and loudly reminded 
him of the omission. The King and Queen, their children, 
and Madame Elizabeth, retired to the Tuileries. Nothing 
was ready for their reception there. All the living rooms 
had been long given up to persons belonging to the Court ; 
they hastily quitted them on that day, leaving their furniture, 
which was purchased by the Court. The Comtesse de la 
Marck, sister to the Marechals de Noailles and de Mouchy, 
had occupied the apartments now appropriated to the Queen. 
Monsieur and Madame retired to the Luxembourg. 

The Queen had sent for me on the morning of the 6th 
of October, to leave me and my father-in-law in charge of 
her most valuable property. She took away only her casket 
of diamonds. Comte Gouvernet de la Tour -du- Pin, to 
whom the military government of Versailles was entrusted 
pro tempore^ came and gave orders to the national guard, 
which had taken possession of the apartments, to allow us 
to remove everything that we should deem necessary for 
the Queen's accommodation. 

I saw her Majesty alone in her private apartments 
moment before her departure for Paris ; she could hardl; 
speak ; tears bedewed her face, to which all the blood ii 
her body seemed to have rushed \ she condescended ti 
embrace me, gave her hand to M. Campan ^ to kiss, am 
said to us, " Come immediately and settle at Paris ; I wil 

1 In the course of that one night my father-in-law dechned from perfec 
health into a languishing condition, which brought him to the grave il 
September 1791. — Madame Campan. 



PERSONAL INFLUENCE OF THE QUEEN 257 

lodge you at the Tuileries ; come, and do not leave me 
henceforward; faithful servants at moments like these, 
become useful friends ; we are lost, dragged away, perhaps 
to death; when kings become prisoners they are very 
near it." 

I had frequent opportunities during the course of our 
misfortunes of observing that the people never entirely give 
their allegiance to factious leaders, but easily escape their 
control when some cause reminds them of their duty. As 
soon as the most violent Jacobins had an opportunity of 
seeing the Queen near at hand, of speaking to her, and of 
hearing her voice, they became her most zealous partizans ; 
and even when she was in the prison of the Temple several 
of those who had contributed to place her there perished 
for having attempted to get her out again. 
, On the morning of the 7th of October the same women 
I who the day before surrounded the carriage of the august 
I prisoners riding on cannons and uttering the most abusive 
j language, assembled under the Queen's windows upon the 
'terrace of the Chateau, and desired to see her. Her 
(Majesty appeared. There are always among mobs of this 
I description orators, that is to say, beings who have more 
jissurance than the rest; a woman of this description told 
l:he Queen that she must now remove far from her all such 
|:ourtiers as ruin kings, and that she must love the in- 
;.iabitants of her good city. The Queen answered that she 
iiad loved them at Versailles, and would likewise love them 
|>t Paris. " y<?x, j^^," said another; ''but on the i4t/i of 
yuly you wanted to besiege the city and have it bombarded: 
\^Md on the 6th of October you wanted to fly to the frontiers.'' 
jChe Queen replied affably that they had been told so, and 
jjiad beheved it ; that there lay the cause of the unhappiness 
I >f the people and of the best of kings. A third addressed 
; few words to her in German : the Queen told her she did 

17 



2S8 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

not understand it ; that she had become so entirely French 
as even to have forgotten her mother tongue. This 
declaration was answered with " Bravos ! " and clapping of 
hands; they then desired her to make a compact with 
them : "Ah," said she, "how can I make a compact with 
you, since you have no faith in that which my duty points 
out to me ; and which I ought for my own happiness to 
respect ? " They asked her for the ribbons and flowers out 
of her hat ; her Majesty herself unfastened them and gave 
them ; they were divided among the party, which for above 
half an hour cried out, without ceasing, " Marie Antoinette 
for ever I our good Queen for ever ! " 

Two days after the King's arrival at Paris the city and 
the national guard sent to request the Queen to appear at 
the theatre, and prove by her presence and the King's that 
it was with pleasure they resided in their capital. I intro- 
duced the deputation which came to make this request. 
Her Majesty replied that she should have infinite pleasure 
in acceding to the invitation of the city of Paris ; but that 
time must be allowed her to soften the recollection of the 
distressing events which had just occurred, and from which 
she had suffered too much. She added, that having come 
into Paris preceded by the heads of the faithful guards who i 
had perished before the door of their sovereign, she could 
not think that such an entry into the capital ought to b< 
followed by rejoicings; but that the happiness she ha( 
always felt in appearing in the midst of the inhabitants o 
Paris was not effaced from her memory, and that she shouk 
enjoy it again as soon as she found herself able to do so. 

Their Majesties ^ found some consolation in their private 

1 On the 19th of October, that is to say, thirteen days after he had 
taken up his abode at Paris, the King went, on foot and almost alone, tc 
review some detachments of the national guard. After the review Louis 
XVI. met with a child sweeping the street who asked him for money, 



INTELLIGENCE OF THE DAUPHIN 259 

life : from Madame's ^ gentle manners and filial affection, 
from the accomplishments and vivacity of the little Dauphin, 
and the attention and tenderness of the pious Princess 
Elizabeth, they still derived moments of happiness. The 
young Prince daily gave proofs of sensibility and penetration ; 
he was not yet beyond female care ; but a private tutor, the 
Abbe Davout, gave him all the instruction suitable to his age ; 
his memory was highly cultivated, and he recited verses with 
much grace and feeling. 

The day after the arrival of the Court at Paris, terrified 
at hearing some noise in the gardens of the Tuileries, he 
threw himself into the arms of the Queen, crying out, 
" Grand Dieu^ mamma ! will it be yesterday over again ? " 
A few days after this affecting exclamation he went up to 
the King, and looked at him with a pensive air. The King 
asked him what he wanted ; he answered, that he had some- 
thing very serious to say to him. The King having prevailed 
on him to explain himself, the young Prince asked why his 
people, who formerly loved him so well, were all at once 
i angry with him ; and what he had done to irritate them so 
much. His father took him upon his knees, and spoke to 
^ him nearly as follows : " I wished, child, to render the 
I people still happier than they were ; I wanted money to pay 
j the expenses occasioned by wars. I asked my people for 
I money, as my predecessors have always done ; magistrates, 
composing the Parliament, opposed it, and said that my 
people alone had a right to consent to it. I assembled the 

The child called the King M. le Chevalier. His Majesty gave him six 
francs. The little sweeper, surprised at receiving so large a sum, cried 
out, " Oh ! I have no change, you will give me money another time," A 

[ person who accompanied the monarch said to the child, ' ' Keep it all, my 

1 friend, the gentleman is not chevalier, he is the eldest of the family." — 

\Note by the Editor. 

j ^ Madame, here, the Princess Marie Thdrese, daughter of Marie 
'Antoinette. 



26o PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

principal inhabitants of every town, whether distinguished 
by birth, fortune, or talents, at Versailles ; that is what is 
called the States-General. When they were assembled they 
required concessions of me which I could not make, either 
with due respect for myself or with justice to you, who will 
be my successor ; wicked men inducing the people to rise 
have occasioned the excesses of the last few days; the 
people must not be blamed for them." 

The Queen made the young Prince clearly comprehend 
that he ought to treat the commanders of battalions, the 
officers of the national guard, and all the Parisians who were 
about him, with aifability ; the child took great pains to 
please all those people, and when he had had an opportunity 
of replying obligingly to the mayor or members of the 
commune he came and whispered in his mother's ear, 
" Was that right ?'' 

He requested M. Bailly to show him the shield of Scipio, 
which is in the royal library; and M. Bailly asking him 
which he preferred, Scipio or Hannibal, the young Prince 
replied without hesitation that he preferred him who had 
defended his own country. He gave frequent proofs of 
ready wit. One day, while the Queen was hearing Madame 
repeat her exercises in ancient history, the young Princess 
could not at the moment recollect the name of the Queen 
of Carthage ; the Dauphin was vexed at his sister's want of 
memory, and though he never spoke to her in the second 
person singular, he bethought himself of the expedient of 
saying to her, " But dts done the name of the queen, to 
mamma ; dis done what her name was." 

Shortly after the arrival of the King and his family at 
Paris the Duchesse de Luynes came, in pursuance of th( 
advice of a committee of the Constitutional Assembly, to 
propose to the Queen a temporary retirement from France, 
in order to leave the constitution to perfect itself, so that 



THE QUEEN ADVISED TO LEAVE FRANCE 261 

the patriots should not accuse her of influencing the King 
to oppose it. The Duchess knew how far the schemes of 
the conspirers extended, and her attachment to the Queen 
was the principal cause of the advice she gave her. The 
Queen perfectly comprehended the Duchesse de Luynes's 
motive ; but replied that she would never leave either the 
King or her son ; that if she thought herself alone obnoxious 
to public hatred she would instantly offer her life as a sacri- 
fice ; but that it was the throne which was aimed at, and 
that, in abandoning the King, she should be merely com- 
mitting an act of cowardice, since she saw no other 
advantage in it than that of saving her own life. 

One evening, in the month of November 1 790, 1 returned 

home rather late ; I there found the Prince de Poix ; he 

told me he came to request me to assist him in regaining 

his peace of mind ; that at the commencement of the sittings 

of the National Assembly he had suffered himself to be 

seduced into the hope of a better order of things ; that he 

blushed for his error, and that he abhorred plans which had 

already produced such fatal results ; that he broke with the 

reformers for the rest of his life ; that he had just given in 

his resignation as a deputy of the National Assembly ; and 

finally, that he was anxious that the Queen should not sleep 

I in ignorance of his sentiments. I undertook his commission, 

I and acquitted myself of it in the best way I could ; but I 

i was totally unsuccessful. The Prince de Poix remained at 

! Court, he there suffered many mortifications, never ceasing 

I to serve the King in the most dangerous commissions with 

! that zeal for which his house has always been distinguished. 

I When the King, the Queen, and the children were 

' suitably established at the Tuileries, as well as Madame 

Elizabeth and the Princesse de Lamballe, the Queen 

resumed her usual habits ; she employed her mornings in 

j superintending the education of Madame, who received all 



262 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

her lessons in her presence, and she herself began to work 
large pieces of tapestry. Her mind was too much occupied 
with passing events and surrounding dangers to admit of 
her applying herself to reading ; the needle was the only 
employment which could divert her.^ She received the 
Court twice a week before going to mass, and on those days 
dined in public with the King ; she spent the rest of the 
time with her family and children ; she had no concert, and 
did not go to the play until 1791, after the acceptation of 
the constitution. 2 The Princesse de Lamballe, however, 
had some evening parties in her apartments at the Tuileries, 
which were tolerably brilliant in consequence of the great 
number of persons who attended them. The Queen was 
present at a few of these assembhes ; but being soon con- 
vinced that her present situation forbade her appearing much 
in public, she remained at home, and conversed as she sat 
at work. The sole topic of her discourse was, as may well 
be supposed, the Revolution. She sought to discover the 

1 There was long preserved at Paris, in the house of Mademoiselle 
Dubuquois, a tapestry -worker, a carpet worked by the Queen and Madame 
Elizabeth for the large room of her Majesty's ground-floor apartments at 
the Tuileries. The Empress Josephine saw and admired this carpet, and 
desired it might be taken care of, in the hope of one day sending it to 
Madame. — Madame Campan. 

2 A judgment may be formed of the situation in which the Queen 
found herself placed during the earlier part of her residence in Paris, from 
the following letter written by her to the Duchesse de Polignac : — "I shed 
tears of affection on reading your letters. You talk of my courage : it re- 
quired much less to go through that dreadful crisis which I had to suffer 
than is daily necessary to endure our situation, our own griefs, those of our 
friends, and those of the persons who surround us. This is a heavy weigiit 
to sustain ; and but for the strong ties by which my heart is bound to my 
husband, my children, and my friends, I should wish to sink under it, 
But you bear me up : I ought to sacrifice such feelings to your friendship. 
But it is I who bring misfortune on you all, and your troubles are on my 
account " {History of Marie Antoinette, by Montjoie). — Note by the 
Editor. 



PREJUDICE AGAINST THE QUEEN ■ 263 

real opinions of the Parisians respecting her, and how she 
could have so completely lost the affections of the people, 
and even of many persons in the higher ranks. She well 
knew that she ought to impute the whole to the spirit of 
party, to the hatred of the Due d'Orleans, and the folly of 
the French, who desired to have a total change in the 
constitution; but she was not the less desirous of as- 
certaining the private feelings of all the people in 
power. 

From the very commencement of the Revolution General 
Luckner indulged in violent sallies against her. Her 
Majesty, knowing that I was acquainted with a lady who 
had been long connected with the general, desired me to 
discover through that channel what was the private motive 
on which Luckner's hatred against her was founded. On 
being questioned upon this point, he answered that 
Marechal de Segur had assured him he had proposed him 
for the command of a camp of observation, but that the 
Queen had made a bar against his name ; and that this J>ar, 
as he called it, in his German accent, he could not forget. 
The Queen ordered me to repeat this reply to the King 
myself, and said to him, "See, Sire, whether I was not 
right in telling you that your ministers, in order to give 
themselves full scope in the distribution of favours, per- 
suaded the French that I interfered in everything; there 
was not a single licence given out in the country for the 
sale of salt or tobacco but the people believed it was given 
to one of my favourites." — " That is very true," replied the 
King ; " but I find it very difficult to believe that Marechal 
de Segur ever said any such thing to Luckner ; he knew too 
well that you never interfered in the distribution of favours. 
That Luckner is a good-for-nothing fellow, and Segur is a 
brave and honourable man who never uttered such a false- 
hood ; however, you are right ; and because you provided 



264 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

for a few dependants, you are most unjustly reported to 
have disposed of all offices, civil and military." 

All the nobility who had not left Paris made a point of 
presenting themselves assiduously to the King, and there 
was a considerable influx to the Tuileries. Marks of 
attachment were exhibited even in external symbols; the 
women wore enormous bouquets of Hlies in their bosoms 
and upon their heads, and sometimes even bunches of 
white ribbon. At the play there were often disputes 
between the pit and the boxes about removing these 
ornaments, which the people thought dangerous emblems. 
National cockades were sold in every corner of Paris ; the 
sentinels stopped all who did not wear them ; the young 
men piqued themselves upon breaking through this 
regulation, which was in some degree sanctioned by the 
acquiescence of Louis XVI. Frays .took place, which were 
to be regretted, because they excited a spirit of lawlessness. 
The King adopted conciliatory measures with the Assembly 
in order to promote tranquillity ; the revolutionists were but 
little disposed to think him sincere ; unfortunately the 
royalists encouraged this incredulity by incessantly repeating 
that the King was not free, and that all that he did was 
completely null, and in no way bound him for the time to 
come. Such was the heat and violence of party spirit that 
persons the most sincerely attached to the King were not 
even permitted to use the language of reason, and recom- 
mend greater reserve in conversation. People would talk 
and argue at table without considering that all the servants 
belonged to the hostile army; and it may truly be said 
there was as much imprudence and levity in the party 
assailed as there was cunning, boldness, and perseverance 
in that which made the attack. 



CHAPTER XVI 

Loyalty of M. de Favras — His prosecution and death — His children 
are imprudently presented to the Queen — Plan laid for carrying off 
the royal family — Singular letter from the Empress Catherine to 
Louis XVI. — The Queen is unwilling to owe the re-establishment 
of the throne to the emigres — Death of the Emperor Joseph II. — 
First negotiation between the Court and Mirabeau — Louis XVI. 
and his family inhabit Saint Cloud — New plans for escaping. 

In February 1790 another matter gave the Court much 
uneasiness ; a zealous individual of the name of Favras had 
conceived the scheme of carrying off the King, and effecting 
a counter-revolution. Monsieur, probably out of mere 
benevolence, gave him some money, and thence arose a 
report that he thereby wished to favour the execution of the 
enterprise. The step taken by Monsieur in going to the 
Hotel de Ville to explain himself on this matter was un- 
known to the Queen; it is more than probable that the 
King was acquainted with it. When judgment was pro- 
nounced upon M. de Favras the Queen did not conceal 
from me her fears about the confessions of the unfortunate 
man in his last moments. 

I sent a confidential person to the Hotel de Ville ; she 
came to inform the Queen that the condemned had de- 
manded to be taken from Notre Dame to the Hotel de Ville 
to make a final declaration, and give some particulars 
verifying it. These particulars compromised nobody j 



266 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Favras corrected his last will after writing it, and went to 
the scaffold with heroic courage and coolness. The judge 
who read his condemnation to him told him that his life 
was a sacrifice which he owed to public tranquillity. It was 
asserted at the time that Favras was given up as a victim in 
order to satisfy the people and save the Baron de Besenval, 
who was a prisoner in the Abbaye.^ 

On the morning of the Sunday following this execution 

1 Thomas Mahy, Marquis "de Favras, was accused in the month of 
December 1789 of having conspired against the Revolution. Having been 
arrested by order of the committee of inquiry of the National Assembly, 
he was transferred to the Chatelet, where he defended himself with much 
coolness and presence of mind, repelHng the accusations brought against 
him by Morel, Turcati, and Marquis, with considerable force. These 
witnesses declared he had imparted his plan to them ; it was to be carried 
into execution by 12,000 Swiss and 12,000 Germans, who were to be 
assembled at Montargis, thence to march upon Paris, carry off the King, 
and assassinate Bailly, La Fayette, and Necker, The greater number of 
these charges he denied, and declared that the rest related only to the levy 
of a troop intended to favour the revolution preparing in Brabant. The 
judge having refused to disclose who had denounced him, he complained 
to the Assembly, which passed to the order of the day. His death was 
obviously inevitable. During the whole time of the proceedings the 
populace never ceased threatening the judges and shouting, "^ la 
lanterne!" It was even necessary to keep numerous troops and artillery 
constantly ready to act in the courtyard of the Chatelet. The judges, who 
had just acquitted M. de Besenval in an affair nearly similar, doubtless 
dreaded the effects of this fury. When they refused to hear Favras's 
witnesses in exculpation, he compared them to the tribunal of the Inquisi- 
tion. The principal charge against him was founded on a letter from M. 
de Foucault, asking him, ' ' Where are your troops ? in which direction will 
they enter Paris? I should like to be employed among them." Favras 
was condemned to make the amende honorable in front of the Cathedral, 
and to be hanged at the Place de Greve. He heard this sentence with 
wonderful calmness, and said to his judges, ' ' I pity you much if the 
testimony of two men is sufficient to induce you to condemn." The 
judge having said to him, " I have no other consolation to hold out to 
you than that which rehgion affords," he replied nobly, "My greatest 
consolation is that which I derive from my innocence." — Biografhie 
Universelle, vol. xiv. p. 221. 



THE QUEEN BETWEEN TWO FIRES 267 

M. de la Villeurnoy ^ came to my house to tell me that he 
was going that day to the public dinner of the King and 
Queen to present Madame de Favras and her son, both of 
them in mourning for the brave Frenchman who fell a 
sacrifice for his King ; and that all the royalists expected 
to see the Queen load the unfortunate family with favours. 
I did all that lay in my power to prevq»t this proceeding : 
I foresaw the effect it would have upon the Queen's feeling 
heart, and the painful constraint she would experience, 
having the horrible Santerre, the commandant of a battalion 
of the Parisian guard, behind her chair during dinner-time. 
I could not make M. de la Villeurnoy comprehend my 
argument ; the Queen was gone to mass, surrounded by 
her whole Court, and I had not even means of apprising 
her of his intention. 

When dinner was over I heard a knocking at the door 
of my apartment, which opened into the corridor next that 
of the Queen ; it was herself. She asked me whether there 
was anybody with me ; I was alone ; she threw herself into 
an arm-chair, and told me she came to weep with me over 
the foolish conduct of the ultras of the King's party. "We 
must fall," said she, "attacked as we are by men who 
possess every talent and shrink from no crime, while we 
are defended only by those who are no doubt very estim- 
able, but have no adequate idea of our situation. They 
have exposed me to the animosity of both parties by 
presenting the widow and son of Favras to me. Were I 
free to act as I wish I should take the child of the man 
who has just sacrificed himself for us and place him at 
table between the King and myself; but surrounded by 
the assassins who have destroyed his father, I did not dare 

^ M. de la Villeurnoy, master of the requests, was deported to Sinamary 
on the i8th Fructidor, 4th September 1797 — the coup d'itat made by the 
Directory against the royalist party — and there died; — Madame Campan. 



268 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

even to cast my eyes upon him. The royahsts will blame 
me for not having appeared interested in this poor child ; 
the revolutionists will be enraged at the idea that his 
presentation should have been thought agreeable to me." 
However, the Queen added that she knew Madame da 
Favras was in want, and that she desired me to send her 
next day, through a person who could be relied on, a few 
rouleaus of fifty louis, and to direct that she should be 
assured her Majesty would always watch over the fortunes 
of herself and her son. 

In the month of March following I had an opportunity 
of ascertaining the King's sentiments respecting the schemes 
which were continually proposed to him for making his 
escape. One night about ten o'clock Comte d'Inisdal, who 
was deputed by the nobility, came to request that I would 
see him in private, as he had an important matter to com- 
municate to me. He told me that on that very night the 
King was to be carried off; that the section of the national 
guard, that day commanded by M. d'Aumont,^ was gained 
over, and that sets of horses, furnished by some good royalists, 
were placed in relays at suitable distances; that he had 
just left a number of the nobility assembled for the execu- 
tion of this scheme, and that he had been sent to me that 
I might, through the medium of the Queen, obtain the 
King's positive consent to it before midnight; that the 
King was aware of their plan, but that his Majesty never 
would speak decidedly, and that it was necessary he should 
consent to the undertaking. I greatly displeased Comte 
d'Inisdal by expressing my astonishment that the nobility 
at the moment of the execution of so important a project 
should send to me, the Queen's first woman, to obtain a 

^ A brother of the Due de Villeqiiier, who had joined the revolutionary 
party ; a man of no weight or respectability, who desired he might be 
called lacques Aumont. — Madame Campan. 



THE king's indecision 269 

consent which ought to have been the basis of any well- 
concerted scheme. I told him, also, that it would be 
impossible for me to go at that time to the Queen's apart- 
ments without exciting the attention of the people in the 
antechambers ; that the King was at cards with the Queen 
and his family, and that I never broke in upon their privacy 
unless I was called for, I added, however, that M. Campan 
could enter without being called j and if the Count chose 
to give him his confidence he might rely upon him. 

My father-in-law, to whom Comte d'Inisdal repeated 
what he had said to me, took the commission upon 
himself, and went to the Queen's apartments. The King 
was playing at whist with the Queen, Monsieur, and Madame; 
Madame Elizabeth was kneehng on a stool near the table. 
M. Campan informed the Queen of what had been com- 
municated to me ; nobody uttered a word. The Queen 
broke silence and said to the King, " Do you hear, Sire, 
what Campan says to us ?" — "Yes, I hear," said the King, 
and continued his game. Monsieur, who was in the habit 
of introducing passages from plays into his conversation, 
said to my father-in-law, "M. Campan, that pretty little 
couplet again^ if you please ;" and pressed the King to reply. 
At length the Queen said, " But something must be said to 
Campan." The King then spoke to my father-in-law in 
these words : " Tell M. cCInisdal that I cannot consent to be 
carried off !'^ The Queen enjoined M. Campan to take care 
and report this answer faithfully. " Yotc understands^ added 
she, ''''the King cannot consent to be carried off^ Comte 
d'Inisdal was very much dissatisfied with the King's answer, 
and went out saying, " I understand ; he wishes to throw 
all the blame, beforehand, upon those who are to devote 
themselves for him." He went away, and I thought the 
enterprise would be abandoned. However, the Queen 
remained alone with me till midnight, preparing her cases 



270 PRIVATE LIF:E OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

of valuables, and ordered me not to go to bed. She 
imagined the King's answer would be understood as a tacit 
consent, and merely a refusal to participate in the design. 
I do not know what passed in the King's apartments during 
the night ; but I occasionally looked out at the windows : 
I saw the garden clear ; I heard no noise in the Palace, 
and day at length confirmed my opinion that the project 
had been given up. " We must, however, fly,^'' said the 
Queen to me shortly afterwards : " who knows how far the 
factious may go "i The danger increases every day. ^^'^ This 
Princess received advice and memorials from all quarters. 
Rivarol addressed several to her, which I read to her. They 
were full of ingenious observations ; but the Queen did not 
find that they contained anything of essential service under 
the circumstances in which the royal family was placed. 
Comte du Moustier also sent memorials and plans of conduct. 
I remember that in one of his writings he said to the King, 
" Read Telemachus again, Sire ; in that book which delighted 
your Majesty in infancy you will find the first seeds of those 
principles which, erroneously followed up by men of ardent 
imaginations, are bringing on the explosion we expect every 

1 The disturbances of the 13th of April 1790, occasioned by the 
warmth of the discussions upon Dom Gerle's imprudent motion in the 
National Assembly, having afforded room for apprehension that the 
enemies of the country would endeavour to carry off the King from the 
capital, M. de La Fayette promised to keep watch, and told Louis XVI. 
that if he saw any alarming movement among the disaffected he would 
give him notice of it by the discharge of a cannon from Henri IV. 's 
battery on the Pont Neuf. On the same night a few casual discharges 
of musketry were heard from the terrace of the Tuileries. The King, 
deceived by the noise, flew to the Queen's apartments ; he did not find 
her ; he ran to the Dauphin's room, where he found the Queen holding 
her son in her arms. "Madame," said the King to her, " I have been 
seeking you ; and you have made me uneasy." The Queen, showing her | 
son, said to him, " I was at my post." — Anecdotes of the Reign of Louis | 
XVI. 



ADVICE OF THE E3IPRESS CATHERINE 271 

moment." I read so many of these memorials that I could 
hardly give a faithful account of them, and I am determined 
to note in this work no other events than such as I wit- 
nessed ; no other words than such as (notwithstanding the 
lapse of time) still in some measure vibrate in my ears. 

Comte de Segur,^ on his return from Russia, was em- 
ployed some time by the Queen, and had a certain degree 
of influence over her ; but that did not last long. Comte 
Augustus de la Marck likewise endeavoured to negotiate 
for the King's advantage with the leaders of the factious. 
M. de Fontanges, Archbishop of Toulouse, possessed also 
the Queen's confidence; but none of the endeavours which 
were made on the spot produced any beneficial result. 
The Empress Catherine II. also conveyed her opinion upon 
the situation of Louis XVI. to the Queen, and her Majesty 
made me read a few lines in the Empress's own handwriting, 
which concluded with these words : " Kings ought to proceed 
in their career undisturbed by the cries of the people, even 
as the moon pursues her course unimpeded by the baying 
of dogs." This maxim of the despotic sovereign of Russia 
was very inapplicable to the situation of a captive King. 

Meanwhile the revolutionary party followed up its auda- 
cious enterprise in a determined manner, without meeting 
any opposition. The advice from without, as well from 
Coblentz as from Vienna, made various impressions upon 
the members of the royal family, and those cabinets were 
not in accordance with each other. I often had reason to 
infer from what the Queen said to me that she thought the 
King, by leaving all the honour of restoring order to the 
Coblentz party, ^ would, on the return of the emigrants, be 

^ Louis Philippe, Comte de Sdgur (1753 -1830), son of the Mardchal 
and Minister of War, Philippe Henri, Marqiiis de Sdgur. 

^ The Princes and the chief of the emigrant nobility assembled at 
Coblentz, and the name was used to designate the reactionary party. 



272 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

put under a kind of guardianship which would increase 
his own misfortunes. She frequently said to me, " If the emi- 
grants succeed, they will rule the roast for a long time ; it 
will be impossible to refuse them anything; to owe the 
crown to them would be contracting too great an obligation." 
It always appeared to me that she wished her own family to 
counterbalance the claims of the emigrants by disinterested 
services. She was fearful of M. de Calonne, and with good 
reason. She had proof that this minister was her bitterest 
enemy, and that he made use of the most criminal means 
in order to blacken her reputation. I can- testify that I have 
seen in the hands of the Queen a manuscript copy of the 
infamous memoirs of the woman De Lamotte, which had 
been brought to her from London, and in which all those 
passages where a total ignorance of the customs of Courts 
had occasioned that wretched woman to make blunders 
which would have been too palpable were corrected in M. 
de Calonne's own handwriting. 

The two King's Guards who were wounded at her 
Majesty's door on the 6th of October were M. du Repaire 
and M. de Miomandre de Sainte Marie ; on the dreadful 
night of the 6th of October the latter took the post of the 
former the moment he became incapable of maintaining it. 

A considerable number of the Body Guards, who were 
wounded on the 6th of October, betook themselves to the 
infirmary at Versailles. The Brigands wanted to make their 
way into the infirmary in order to massacre them. M. Viosin, 
head surgeon of that infirmary, ran to the entrance hall, in- 
vited the assailants to refresh themselves, ordered wine to 
be brought, and found means to direct the Sister Superior 
to remove the Guards into a ward appropriated to the poor, 
and dress them in the caps and greatcoats furnished by 
the institution. The good sisters executed this order so 
promptly that the Guards were removed, dressed as paupers,. 



THE QUEEN AND THE GUARDS 273 

and^ their beds made, while the assassins were drinking. 
They searched all the wards, and fancied they saw no per- 
sons there but the sick poor ; thus the Guards were saved. 
M. de Miomandre was at Paris, living on terms of 
friendship with another of the Guards, who, on the same 
day, received a gunshot wound from the brigands in another 
part of the Chateau. These two officers, who were at- 
j tended and cured together at the infirmary of Versailles, 
i were almost constant companions ; they were recognised at 
j the Palais Royal, and insulted. The Queen thought it neces- 
i sary for themlto quit, Paris. She desired me to write to M. de 
Miomandre de Sainte Marie, and tell him to come to me at 
j eight o'clock in the evening ; and then to communicate 
' to him her wish to hear of his being in safety ; and ordered 
me, when he had made up his mind to go, to tell him in 
^ her name that gold could not repay such a service as he 
i had rendered ; that she hoped some day to be in sufficiently 
' happy circumstance's to recompense him as she ought ; but 
I that for the present her offer of money was only that of a 
' sister to a brother situated as he then was, and that she re- 
quested he would take whatever might be necessary to dis- 
i charge his debts at Paris and defray the expenses of his 
i journey. She told me also to desire he would bring his 
I friend Bertrand with him, and to make him the same offer. 
The two Guards came at the appointed hour, and ac- 
! cepted, I think, each one or two hundred louis. A moment 
I afterwards the Queen opened my door; she was accom- 
j panied by the King and Madame Elizabeth ; the King 
j stood with his back against the fireplace ; the Queen sat 
[down upon a sofa and Madame Elizabeth sat near her; I 
j placed myself behind the Queen, and the two Guards stood 
■^cing the King. The Queen told them that the King 
; vvished to see before they went away two of the brave men 
Uvho had afforded him the strongest proofs of courage and 

18 ■ 



274 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

attachment. Miomandre said all that the Queen's affecting 
observations were calculated to inspire. Madame Elizabeth 
spoke of the King's gratitude ; the Queen resumed the 
subject of their speedy departure, urging the necessity of it; 
the King was silent ; but his emotion was evident, and his 
eyes were suffused with tears. The Queen rose, the King 
went out, and Madame Elizabeth followed him ; the Queen 
stopped and said to me, in the recess of a window, " I am 
sorry I brought the King here ! I am sure Elizabeth thinks 
with me ; if the King had but given utterance to a fourth 
part of what he thinks of those brave men they would have 
been in ecstasies ; but he cannot overcome his diffidence." 

The Emperor Joseph died about this time. The 
Queen's grief was not excessive ; that brother of whom she 
had been so proud, and whom she had loved so tenderly, 
had probably suffered greatly in her opinion; she re- 
proached him sometimes, though with moderation, for 
having adopted several of the principles of the new philo- 
sophy, and perhaps she knew that he looked upon our 
troubles with the eye of the sovereign of Germany rathei 
than that of the brother of the Queen of France. 

The Emperor on one occasion sent the Queen ar 
engraving which represented unfrocked nuns and monks. 
The first were trying on fashionable dresses, the latter were 
having their hair arranged ; the picture was always left in a 
closet, and never hung up. The Queen told me to hav< 
it taken away ; for she was hurt to see how much influence 
the philosophers had over her brother's mind and actions. 

Mirabeau had not lost the hope of becoming the last 
resource of the oppressed Court; and at this time some 
communications passed between the Queen and him. Th( 
question was about an office to be conferred upon him 
This transpired, and it must have been about this perioc 
that the Assembly decreed that no deputy could hold ai| 



PLANS OF ESCAPE 275 

office as a minister of the King until the expiration of two 
years after the cessation of his legislative functions. I 
know that the Queen was much hurt at this decision, 
and considered that the Court had lost a promising 
opening.^ 

The palace of the Tuileries was a very disagreeable 
residence during the summer, which made the Queen wish 
to go to Saint Cloud. The removal was decided on with- 
out any opposition ; the national guard of Paris followed 
the Court thither. At this period new opportunities of 
escape were presented ; nothing would have been more 
easy than to execute them. The King had obtained leave 
(!) to go out without guards, and to be accompanied only 
by an aide-de-camp of M. de La Fayette. The Queen also 
had one on duty with her, and so had the Dauphin. The 
King and Queen often went out at four in the afternoon, 
and did not return until eight or nine. 

I will relate one of the plans of emigration which the 
Queen communicated to me, the success of which seemed 
infallible. The Royal family were to meet in a wood four 
leagues from Saint Cloud; some persons who could be 
fully relied on were to accompany the King, who was 
always followed by his equerries and pages ; the • Queen 
was to join him with her daughter and Madame Elizabeth : 
these Princesses, as well as the Queen, had equerries and 
pages, of whose fidelity no doubt could be entertained. 
The Dauphin likewise was to be at the place of rendezvous 
with Madame de Tourzel ; ^ a large berline and a chaise 
for the attendants were sufficient for the whole family ; the 
aides-de-camp were to have been gained over or mastered. 
The King was to leave a letter for the President of the 

■*• See Thiers's Revolution Frangaise, tome i. p. 89. 
^•- The Memoirs of Madame de Tourzel have since been published. 
{Paris, 1883), edited by the Due des Cars. 



276 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

National Assembly on his bureau at Saint Cloud. The 
people in the service of the King and Queen would have 
waited until nine in the evening without anxiety, because 
the family sometimes did not return until that hour. The 
letter could not be forwarded to Paris until ten o'clock at 
the earliest. The Assembly would not then be sitting ; the 
President must have been sought for at his own house 
or elsewhere; it would have been midnight before the 
Assembly could have been summoned and couriers sent 
off to have the royal family stopped ; but the latter would 
have been six or seven hours in advance, as they would 
have started at six leagues' distance from Paris; and at 
this period travelling was not yet impeded in France. 

The Queen approved of this plan ; but I did not venture 
to interrogate her, and I eyen thought if it was put in 
execution she would leave me in ignorance of it. One 
evening in the month of June the people of the Chateau, 
finding the King did not return by nine o'clock, were 
walking about the courtyards in a state of great anxiety. 
I thought the family was gone, and I could scarcely breathe 
amidst the confusion of my good wishes, when I heard 
the sound of the carriages. I confessed to the Queen 
that I thought she had set off; she told me she must 
wait until Mesdames the King's aunts had quitted France, 
and afterwards see whether the plan agreed with those 
formed abroad. 



CHAPTER XVII 

First Federation — Attempts to assassinate the Queen — Affecting scene 
— Account of the affair of Nancy, written by Madame Campan, 
at night, in the council chamber, by the King's dictation — Madame 
Campan becomes the subject of calumnious denunciation— Marks 
of confidence bestowed upon her by the Queen — Interview be- 
tween the Queen and Mirabeau in the gardens of Saint Cloud — 
He treats with the Court — Ridicule of the revolutionary party — 
Stones of the Bastille offered to the Dauphin — The Queen feels 
her aversion to M. de La Fayette increase — Plan formed by the 
Princes for re-entering France through Lyons — Imprudence of 
persons attached to the Queen — Anecdote relative to M. de La 
Fayette — Departure of the King's aunts — Death of Mirabeau. 

There was a meeting at Paris for the first federation on 
the 14th of July 1790, the anniversary of the taking of the 
Bastille. What an astonishing assemblage of four hundred 
thousand men, of whom there were not perhaps two hundred 
who did not believe that the King found happiness and 
glory in the order of things then being established. The 
love which was borne him by all, with the exception of 
those who meditated his ruin, still reigned in the hearts of 
the French in the departments ; but if I may judge from 
those whom I had an opportunity of seeing, it was totally 
impossible to enlighten them ; they were as much attached 
to the King as to the constitution, and to the constitution 
as to the King ; and it was impossible to separate the one 
from the other in their hearts and minds. 

The Court returned to Saint Cloud after the federation. 



278 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

A wretch, named Rotondo, made his way into the palace 
with the intention of assassinating the Queen. It is known 
that he penetrated to the inner gardens : the rain prevented 
her Majesty from going out that day. M. de La Fayette, 
who was aware of this plot, gave all the sentinels the 
strictest orders, and a description of the monster was dis- 
tributed throughout the palace by order of the general. I 
do not know how he was saved from punishment. The 
police belonging to the King discovered that there was 
likewise a scheme on foot for poisoning the Queen. She 
spoke to me, as well as to her head physician, M. Vicq- 
d'Azyr, about it, without the slightest emotion, but both he 
and I consulted what precautions it would be proper to 
take. He relied much upon the Queen's temperance ; yet 
he recommended me always to have a bottle of oil of sweet 
almonds within reach, and . to renew it occasionally, that oil 
and milk being, as is known, the most certain antidotes to 
the divellication of corrosive poisons. The Queen had a 
habit which rendered M. Vicq-d'Azyr particularly uneasy: 
there was always some pounded sugar upon the table in 
her Majesty's bed-chamber; and she frequently, without 
calling anybody, put spoonfuls of it into a glass of water 
when she wished to drink. It was agreed that I should 
get a considerable quantity of sugar powdered; that I 
should alw^ays have some papers of it in my bag, and that 
three or four times a day, when alone in the Queen's room, 
I should substitute it for that in her sugar-basin. We knew 
that the Queen would have prevented all such precautions, 
but we were not aware of her reason. One day she caught 
me alone making this exchange, and told me she supposed 
it was agreed on between myself and M. Vicq-d'Azyr, but 
that I gave myself very unnecessary trouble. ^' Remember," 
added she, "that not a grain of poison will be put in use 
against me. The Brinvilliers do not belong to this century.: 



SYMPATHY FOR THE QUEEN 279 

this age possesses calumny, which is a much more con- 
venient instrument of death : and it is by that I shall 
perish." 

Even while melancholy presentiments afflicted this un- 
fortunate Princess, manifestations of attachment to her 
person, and to the King's cause, would frequently raise 
agreeable illusions in her mind, or present to her the 
affecting spectacle of tears shed for her sorrows. I was one 
day, during this same visit to Saint Cloud, witness of a very 
touching scene, which we took great care to keep secret. 
It was four in the afternoon ; the guard was not set ; 
there was scarcely anybody at Saint Cloud that day, and I 
was reading to the Queen, who was at work in a room, the 
balcony of which hung over the courtyard. The windows 
were closed, yet we heard a sort of inarticulate murmur 
from a great number of voices. The Queen desired me to 
go and see what it was ; I raised the muslin curtain, and 
perceived more than fifty persons beneath the balcony : this 
group consisted of women, young and old, perfectly well 
dressed in the country costume, old chevaUers of Saint 
Louis, young knights of Malta, and a few ecclesiastics. I 
told the Queen it was probably an assemblage of persons 
residing in the neighbourhood who wished to see her. She 
rose, opened the window, and appeared in the balcony; 
immediately all these worthy people said to her, in an 
undertone: "Courage, Madame; good Frenchmen suffer 
for you, and with you ; they pray for you : Heaven will 
hear their prayers : we love you, we respect you, we will con- 
tinue to venerate our virtuous King." The Queen burst into 
tears, and held her handkerchief to her eyes. " Poor Queen ! 
she weeps ! " said the women and young girls ; but the 
dread of exposing her Majesty, and even the persons who 
showed so much affection for her, to observation, prompted 
me to take her hand, and prevail upon her to retire into her 



28o PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

room ; and, raising my eyes, I gave the excellent people to 
understand that my conduct was dictated by prudence. 
They comprehended me, for I heard, " That lady is right ;^^ 
and afterwards, " Farewell, Madame /" from several of them ; 
and all this in accents of feeling so true and so mournful, 
that I am affected at the recollection of them even after a 
lapse of twenty years. 

A few days afterwards the insurrection of Nancy took 
place.^ Only the ostensible cause is known; there was 
another, of which I might have been in full possession, if 
the great confusion I was in upon the subject had not 
deprived me of the power of paying attention to it : I will 
endeavour to make myself understood. In the early part 
of September the Queen, as she was going to bed, desired 
me to let all her people go, and to remain with her myself: 
when we were alone she said to me, " The King will come 
here at midnight. You know that he has always shown you 
marks of distinction ; he now proves his confidence in you 
by selecting you to write down the whole affair of Nancy 
from his dictation. He must have several copies of it." 
At midnight the King came to the Queen's apartments, and 
said to me, smiling, " You did not expect to become my 
secretary, and that, too, during the night." I followed the 
King into the council chamber. I found there sheets of 
paper, an inkstand, and pens all ready prepared. He sat 
down by my side and dictated to me the report of the 
Marquis de Bouille, which he himself copied at the same 
time. My hand trembled; I wrote with difficulty; my 
reflections scarcely left me sufficient power of attention to 
listen to the King. The large table, the velvet cloth, seats 
which ought to have been filled by none but the King's 

^ The insurrection of the troops at Nancy broke out in August 1790, 
and was put down by Mar^chal de Bouilld on the last day of that month. 
See DouilU, p. 195. 



PLOT AGAINST MADAME CAMPAN 281 

chief counsellors ; what that chamber had been, and what 
it was at that moment, when the King was employing a 
woman in an office which had so little affinity with her 
ordinary functions ; the misfortunes which had brought him 
to the necessity of doing so — all these ideas made such an 
impression upon me that when I had returned to the 
Queen's apartments I could not sleep for the re- 
mainder of the night, nor could I remember what I had 
written. 

The more I saw that I had the happiness to be of some 
use to my employers, the more scrupulously careful was I to 
live entirely with my family ; and I never indulged in any 
conversation which could betray the intimacy to which I was 
admitted ; but nothing at Court remains long concealed, and 
I soon saw I had many enemies. The means of injuring 
others in the minds of sovereigns are but too easily obtained, 
and they had become still more so, since the mere suspicion 
of communication with partizans of the Revolution was 
sufficient to forfeit the esteem and confidence of the King 
and Queen : happily my conduct protected me, with them, 
against calumny. I had left Saint Cloud two days, when I 
received at Paris a note from the Queen, containing these 
words : " Come to Saint Cloud immediately : I have some- 
thing concerning you to communicate." I set off without 
loss of time. Her Majesty told me she had a sacrifice to 
request of me : I answered that it was made. She said it 
went so far as the renunciation of a friend's society ; that 
such a renunciation was always painful, but that it must be 
particularly so to me ; that, for her own part, it might have 
been very useful that a deputy, a man of talent, should be 
constantly received at my house ; but at this moment she 
thought only of my welfare. The Queen then informed 
me that the ladies of the bed-chamber had, the preceding 
evening, assured her that M. de Beaumetz, deputy from the 



2S2 PRIVA TE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

nobility of Artois, who had taken his seat on the left of the 
Assembly, spent his whole time at my house. Perceiving 
on what false grounds the attempt to injure me was based, 
I replied respectfully, but at the same time smiling, that it 
was impossible for me to make the sacrifice exacted by her 
Majesty ; that M. de Beaumetz, a man of great judgment, 
had not determined to cross over to the left of the Assembly 
with the intention of afterwards making himself unpopular 
by spending his time with the Queen's first woman ; and 
that, ever since the ist of October 1789, I had seen him 
nowhere but at the play, or in the pubHc walks, and even 
then without his ever coming to speak to me ; that this line 
of conduct had appeared to me perfectly consistent : for 
whether he was desirous to please the popular party, or to 
be sought after by the Court, he could not act in any other 
way towards me. The Queen closed this explanation by 
saying, " Oh ! it is clear, as clear as the day ! this oppor- 
tunity for trying to do you an injury is very ill chosen ; but 
be cautious in your slightest actions ; you perceive that the 
confidence placed in you by the King and myself raises you 
up powerful enemies." 

The private communications which were still kept up 
between the Court and Mirabeau at length procured him an 
interview with the Queen, in the gardens of Saint Cloud. ^ 
He left Paris on horseback, on pretence of going into the 
country, to M. de Clavieres, one of his friends ; but he 
stopped at one of the gates of the gardens of Saint Cloud, 
and was led to a spot situated in the highest part of the 
private garden, where the Queen was waiting for him. Sh 
told me she accosted him by saying, "With a commoi 
enemy, with a man who had sworn to destroy monarch) 

1 It was not in her apartments, as is asserted by M. de Lacretelle, that 
the Queen received Mirabeau ; his person was too generally known.— 
Madame Cajnpayi. 



THE QUEEN AND MIRABEAU 283 

without appreciating its utility among a great people, I 
should at this moment be guilty of a most ill-advised step ; 
but in speaking to a Mirabeau," etc. The poor Queen was 
delighted at having discovered this method of exalting him 
above all others of his principles; and in imparting the 
particulars of this interview to me she said, "Do you know 
that those words, 'a Mirabeau,' appeared to flatter him ex- 
ceedingly." On leaving the Queen he said to her with 
warmth, "Madame, the monarchy is saved !"^ It must 
have been soon afterwards that Mirabeau received con- 
siderable sums of money. He showed it too plainly by the 
increase of his expenditure. Already did some of his 
remarks upon the necessity of arresting the progress of the 
democrats circulate in society. Being once invited to meet 
a person at dinner who was very much attached to the 
Queen, he learned that that person withdrew on hearing 
that he was one of the guests ; the party who invited him 
told him this with some degree of satisfaction ; but all were 
very much astonished when they heard Mirabeau eulogise 
the absent guest, and declare that in his place he would 
have done the same ; but, he added, they had only to invite 
that person again in a few months, and he would then dine 
with the restorer of the monarchy. Mirabeau forgot that it 
was more easy to do harm than good, and thought himself 
the political Atlas of the whole world. 

Outrages and mockery were incessantly mingled with 
the audacious proceedings of the revolutionists. It was 
customary to give serenades under the King's windows on 
New-Year's Day. The band of the national guard repaired 
thither on that festival in 1791 ; in allusion to the liquida- 
tion of the debts of the state, decreed by the Assembly, 
they played solely, and repeatedly, that air from the comic 

^ See an anecdote in Weber's Memoirs, vol. ii., on the subject of this 
interview. 



284 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

opera of the Debts, the burden of which is, ^^ But our 
credit07's are paid, and that makes us easyP 

On the same day some co7iquerors of the Bastille, 
grenadiers of the Parisian guard, preceded by military music, 
came to present to the young Dauphin, as a New- Year's gift, 
a box of dominoes, made of some of the stone and marble 
of which that state prison was built. The Queen gave me 
this inauspicious curiosity, desiring me to preserve it, as it 
would be a curious illustration of the history of the Revolu- 
tion. Upon the lid were engraved some bad verses, the 
purport of which was as follows, " Stones from those walls, 
7vhich enclosed the innocent victims of arbitrary power, have 
been converted into a toy, to be presented to you, Monseigneur, 
as a mark of the people^ s love: and to teach you their power'' 

The Queen said that M. de La Fayette's thirst for popu- 
larity induced him to lend himself, without discrimination, 
to all popular follies. Her distrust of the General increased 
daily, and grew so powerful that when, towards the end of 
the Revolution, he seemed willing to support the tottering 
throne, she could never bring herself to incur so great an 
obligation to him. 

M. de J , a colonel attached to the staff of the army 

was fortunate enough to render several services to the Queen, 
and acquitted himself with discretion and dignity of variou! 
important missions.^ Their Majesties had the highest con 
fidence in him, although it frequently happened that hii 
prudence, when inconsiderate projects were under discussion, 
brought upon him the charge of adopting the principles of 
the constitutionals. Being sent to Turin, he had som( 
difficulty in dissuading the Princes from a scheme they had 
formed at that period of re-entering France, with a very 

^ During the Queen's detention in the Temple he introduced himself 
into that prison in the dress of a lamplighter, and there discharged his 
duty unrecognised. — Madame Campan. 



RASH PROJECT OF THE PRINCES 285 

weak army, by way of Lyons ; and when, in a council which 
lasted till three o'clock in the morning, he showed his 
instructions, and demonstrated that the measure would 
endanger the King, the Comte d'Artois alone declared 
against the plan, which emanated from the Prince de 
Conde. 

Among the persons employed in subordinate situations, 

whom the critical circumstances of the times involved in 

affairs of importance, was M. de Goguelat, a geographical 

engineer at Versailles, and an excellent draughtsman. He 

made plans of Saint Cloud and Trianon for the Queen ; she 

was very much pleased with them, and had the engineer 

admitted into the staff of the army. At the commencement 

of the Revolution he was sent to Count Esterhazy, at 

Valenciennes, in the capacity of aide-de-camp. The latter 

rank was given him solely to get him away from Versailles, 

where his rashness endangered the Queen during the earher 

months of the Assembly of the States-General. Making a 

parade of his devotion to the King's interests, he went 

repeatedly to the tribunes of the Assembly, and there openly 

railed at all the motions of the deputies, and then returned 

•to the Queen's ante-chamber, where he repeated all that 

he had just heard, or had had the imprudence to say. 

I Unfortunately at the same time that the Queen sent 

I away M. de Goguelat she still believed that, in a 

; dangerous predicament, requiring great self-devotion, the 

I man might be employed advantageously. In 1791 

I -he was commissioned to act in concert with the Mar- 

i quis de Bouille in furtherance of the King's intended 

^ escape.^ 

Projectors in great numbers endeavoured to introduce 

^ See the Memoirs of M. de Bouill^ those of the Due de Choiseul, and 
the account of the journey to Varennes, by M. de Fontanges, in Weber's 
Memoirs. — Note by the Editor. 



286 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

themselves not only to the Queen, but to Madame Elizabeth, 
who had communications with many individuals who took 
upon themselves to make plans for the conduct of the Court. 
The Baron de Gilliers and M. de Vanoise were of this 
description ; they went to the Baroness de Mackau's, where 
the Princess spent almost all her evenings. The Queen 
did not like these meetings, where Madame Elizabeth might 
adopt views in opposition to the King's intentions or her 
own. 

The Queen gave frequent audiences to M. de La Fayette. 
One day, when he was in her inner closet, his aides-de-camp, 
who waited for him, were walking up and down the great 
room where the persons in attendance remained. Some 
imprudent young women were thoughtless enough to say, 
with the intention of being overheard by those officers, that 
it was very alarming to see the Queen alone with a rebel 
and a brigand. I was annoyed at their indiscretion, and 
imposed silence on them. One of them persisted in the 
appellation " brigand." I told her that M. de La Fayette 
well deserved the name of rebel, but that the title of leader 
of a party was given by history to every man command- 
ing forty thousand men, a capital, and forty leagues of 
country ; that kings had frequently treated with such leaders, 
and if it was convenient to the Queen to do the same, it 
remained for us only to be silent and respect her actions. 
On the morrow the Queen, with a serious air, but with 
the greatest kindness, asked what I had said respecting 
M. de La Fayette on the preceding day; adding that 
she had been assured I had enjoined her women silence^ 
because they did not like him, and that I had taken his 
part. I repeated what had passed to the Queen, word 
for word. She condescended to tell me that I had done 
perfectly right. 

Whenever any false reports respecting me were con-j 

! 
I 



DEPARTURE OF MESDAMES 287 

veyed to her she was kind enough to inform me of them ; 
and they had no effect on the confidence with which 
she continued to honour me, and which I am happy to 
think I have justified even at the risk of my Hfe. 

Mesdames, the King's aunts, set out from Bellevue in 
the beginning of the year 17 91. Alexandre Berthier, after- 
wards Prince de Neufchatel, then a colonel on the staff of 
the army, and commandant of the national guard of Ver- 
sailles, facilitated the departure of Mesdames. The Jacobins 
of that town procured his dismissal, and he ran the 
greatest risk, on account of having rendered this service to 
these Princesses.^ I went to take leave of Madame 
Victoire. I litde thought that I was then seeing her for 
the last time. She received me alone in her closet, and 
assured me that she hoped, as well as wished, soon to 
return to France ; that the French would be much to be 
pitied if the excesses of the Revolution should arrive at 
such a pitch as to force her to prolong her absence. I 
knew from the Queen that the departure of Mesdames 
was deemed necessary, in order to leave the -King free to 
act when he should be compelled to go away with his 
family. It being impossible that the constitution of the 
clergy should be otherwise than in direct opposition to the 
religious principles of Mesdames, they thought their journey 
to Rome would be attributed to piety alone. It was, 
however, difficult to deceive an Assembly which weighed 
the slightest actions of the royal family, and from that 

^ General Berthier justified the monarch's confidence by a firm and 
prudent line of conduct which entitled him to the highest mihtary honours, 
and to the esteem of the great warrior whose fortune, dangers, and glory he 
afterwards shared. This officer, full of honour, and gifted with the highest 
courage, was shut into the courtyard of Bellevue by his own troop, and ran 
great risk of being murdered. It was not until the 14th of March that he 
succeeded in executing his instructions [Memoirs of Mesdames by Montigny, 
vol. i.) 



288 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

moment they were more than ever aUve to what was 
passing at the Tuileries. 

Mesdames were desirous of taking Madame Elizabeth 
to Rome. The free exercise of reUgion, the happiness of 
taking refuge with the head of the Church, and the prospect 
of living in safety with her aunts, whom she tenderly loved, 
were sacrificed by that virtuous Princess to her attachment 
to the King. 

The oath required of priests by the civil constitution of 
the clergy introduced into France a division which added to 
the dangers by which the King was already surrounded.^ 
Mirabeau spent a whole night with the cure of Saint 
Eustache, confessor of the King and Queen, to persuade 
him to take the oath required by that constitution. Their 
Majesties chose another confessor, who remained unknown. 

A few months afterwards (2d April 1791) the too 
celebrated Mirabeau, the mercenary democrat and venal 
royalist, terminated his career. The Queen regretted him, 
and was astonished at her own regret ; but she had hoped 
that he who had possessed adroitness and weight enough to 
throw everything into confusion would have been able by 
the same means to repair the mischief he had caused. 
Much has been said respecting the cause of Mirabeau's 
death. M. Cabanis, his friend and physician, denied that 
he was poisoned. M. Vicq-d'Azyr assured the Queen that 
the proces-verbal drawn up on the state of the intestines 
would apply just as well to a case of death produced by 
violent remedies as to one produced by poison. He said, 

1 The priests were required to swear to the civil constitution of the 
clergy of 1790, by which all the former bishoprics and parishes were 
remodelled, and the priests and bishops elected by the people. Most 
refused, and under the name of pretres insermentis (as opposed to the few 
who took the oath, pretres assertnenUs) were bitterly persecuted. A simple 1 
promise to obey the constitution of the State was substituted by Napoleon 
as soon as he came to power. • | 



\ 

DEATH OF MIR ABE AU 



also, that the report had been faithful ; but that it was 
prudent to conclude it by a declaration of natural death, 
since, in the critical state in which France then was, if a 
suspicion of foul play were admitted, a person innocent of 
^ any such crime might be sacrificed to public vengeance. 



19 



CHAPTER XVIII 

Preparations for the Journey to Varennes — The Queen watched and 
betrayed — Madame Campan's departure for Auvergne precedes 
that of the royal family for Versailles — Madame Campan hears of 
the King's arrest — Note written to her by the Queen immediately 
upon her return to Paris — Anecdotes — Measures taken for keeping 
the King at the Tuileries — Barnave gains the esteem and con- 
fidence of Marie Antoinette during the return from Varennes — 
His honourable and respectful conduct — She contrasts it with that 
of Petion — Bravery of Barnave — His advice to the Queen — Par- 
ticulars respecting the Varennes journey. 

In the beginning of the spring of 1791 the King, tired of 
remaining at the Tuileries, wished to return to Saint Cloud. 
His whole household had already gone, and his dinner was 
prepared there. He got into his carriage at one; th( 
guard mutinied, shut the gates, and declared they would no 
let him pass. This event certainly proceeded from som( 
suspicion, of a plan for escape. Two persons who drev 
near the King's carriage were very ill treated. My father 
in-law was violently laid hold of by the guards, who took 
his sword from him. The King and his family were obliged 
to alight and return to their apartments. They did not 
much regret this outrage in their hearts ; they saw in it a 
justification, "even in the eyes of the people, of their inten- 
tion to leave Paris. 

So early as the month of March in the same year the 
Queen began to busy herself in preparing for her departure. 



THE QUEEN PREPARES FOR FLIGHT 291 

I spent that month with her, and executed a great number 
of secret orders which she gave me respecting the intended 
event. It was with uneasiness that I saw her occupied with 
cares which seemed to me useless, and even dangerous, and 
I remarked to her that the Queen of France would find 
linen and gowns everywhere. My observations were made 
in vain ; she determined to have a complete wardrobe with 
her at Brussels, as well for her children as herself. I went 
out alone and almost disguised to purchase the articles 
necessary and have them made up. 

I ordered six chemises at the shop of one seamstress, six 
at that of another, gowns, combing cloths, etc. My sister 
had a complete set of clothes made for Madame, by the 
measure of her eldest daughter, and I ordered clothes for 
the Dauphin from those of my son. I filled a trunk with 
these things, and addressed them, by the Queen's orders, to 
one of her women, my aunt, Madame Cardon — a widow 
living at Arras, by virtue of an unlimited leave of absence 
— in order that she might be ready to start for Brussels, or 
any other place, as soon as she should be directed to do so. 
This lady had landed property in Austrian Flanders, and 
could at any time quit Arras unobserved. 

The Queen was to take only her first woman in attend- 
ance with her from Paris. She apprised me that if I should 
not be on duty at the moment of departure, she would 
i'make arrangements for my joining her. She determined 
also to take her travelling dressing-case. She consulted me 
Dn her idea of sending it off, uhder pretence of making a 
present of it to thd Archduchess Christina, Gouvernante of 
j';he Netherlands. I ventured to oppose this plan strongly, 
||ind observed that, amidst so many people who watched her 
I -lightest actions, there would be found a sufiicient number 
I -'harp -sighted enough to discover that it was only a pretext 
, 1 or sending away the property in question before her own de- 



'T^. 



292 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

parture; she persisted in her intention, and all I could 
arrange was that the dressing-case should not be removed 

from her apartment, and that M. de , charge d'affaires 

from the Court of Vienna during the absence of the Comte de 
Mercy, should come and ask her at her toilette, before all 
her people, to order one exactly like her own for Madame 
the Gouvernante of the Netherlands. The Queen, therefore, 
commanded me before the charg'e d'affaires to order the 
article in question. This occasioned only an expense of 
five hundred louis, and appeared calculated to lull suspicion 
completely. 

About the middle of May 179 1, a month after the 
Queen had ordered me to bespeak the dressing-case, she 
asked me whether it would soon be finished. I sent for 
the ivory-turner who had it in hand. He could not com- 
plete it for six weeks. I informed the Queen of this, and 
she told me she should not be able to wait for it, as she 
was to set out in the course of June. She added that, as 
she had ordered her sister's dressing-case in the presence of 
all her attendants, she had taken a sufficient precaution, 
especially by saying that her sister was out of patience at 
not receiving it, and that therefore her own must be emptied 
and cleaned, and taken to the chargb d'affaires, who would 
send it off. I executed this order without any appearance of 
mystery. ' I desired the wardrobe woman to take out of the 
dressing-case all that it contained, because that intended for 
the Archduchess could not be finished for some time ; and 
to take great care to leave no remains of the perfumes 
which might not suit that Princess. 

The woman in question executed her commission punctu- 
ally ; but, on the evening of that very day, the 15 th of May 
1 791, she informed M. Bailly, the Mayor of Paris, that 
preparations were making at the Queen's residence for 
departure ; and that the dressing-case was already sent off, 



A TREACHEROUS SERVANT 293 

under pretence of its being presented to the Archduchess 
Christina.^ 

It was necessary, likewise, to send off the whole of the 
diamonds belonging to the Queen. Her Majesty shut her- 
self up with me in a closet in the entresol^ looking into the 
garden of the Tuileries, and we packed all the diamonds, 
rubies, and pearls she possessed in a small chest. The 
cases containing these ornaments, being altogether of con- 
siderable bulk, had been deposited, ever since the 6th of 
October 1789, with the valet de chambre who had the care 
of the Queen's jewels. That faithful servant, himself de- 
tecting the use that was to be made of the valuables, de- 
stroyed all the boxes, which were, as usual, covered with 
red morocco, marked with the cipher and arms of France. 
It would have been impossible for him to hide them from 
the eyes of the popular inquisitors during the domiciliary 
visits in January 1793, and the discovery might have formed 
a ground of accusation against the Queen. 

I had but a few articles to place in the box when the 
Queen was compelled to desist from packing it, being 
obliged to go down to cards, which began at seven precisely. 
She therefore desired me to leave "all the diamonds upon 
the sofa, persuaded that, as she took the key of her closet 
herself, and there was a sentinel under the window, no 
danger was to be apprehended for that night, and she 
reckoned upon returning very early next dgy to finish the 
work. 

The same woman who had given information of the 
sending away of the dressing-case was also deputed by the 
Queen to take care of her more private rooms. No other 
servant was permitted to enter them ; she renewed the 
flowers, swept the carpets, etc. The Queen received back 

^ After the return from Varennes M. Bailly put this woman's deposi-. 
tion into the Queen's hands. — Madame Campan. 



294 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

the key, when the woman had finished putting them in 
order, from her own hands; but, desirous of doing her 
duty well, and sometimes having the key in her possession 
for a few minutes only, she had probably on that account 
ordered one without the Queen's knowledge. It is impos- 
sible not to believe this, since the despatch of the diamonds 
was the subject of a second accusation which the Queen 
heard of after the return from Varennes. She made a 
formal declaration that her Majesty, with the assistance of 
Madame Campan, had packed up the whole of her jewellery 
some time before the departure ; that she was certain of it, 
as she had found the diamonds, and the cotton which 
served to wrap them, scattered upon the sofa in the Queen's 
closet in the entresol^ and most assuredly she could only 
have seen these preparations in the interval between seven 
in the evening and seven in the morning. The Queen 
having met me next day at the time appointed, the box 
was handed over to Leonard, her Majesty's hairdresser, who 
left the country with the Due de Choiseul.^ The box 
remained a long time at Brussels, and at length got into 
the hands of Madame the Duchesse d'Angouleme, being 
delivered to her by the Emperor on her arrival at Vienna. 

In order not to leave out any of the Queen's diamonds, 
I requested the first tirewoman to give me the body of the 
full dress,- and all the assortment which served for the 
stomacher of the full dress on days of state, articles which 
always remained at the wardrobe. 

The superintendent and the dame d^honneur being ab- 
sent, the first tirewoman required me to sign a receipt, the 
terms of which she dictated, and which acquitted her of all 
responsibility for these diamonds. She had the prudence 

1 This unfortunate naan, after having emigrated for some time, returned 
to France, and perished upon the scaffold. — Note by the Editor. 



THE queen' S JEWELS 295 

to burn this document on the loth of August 1792.^ The 
Queen having determined, upon the arrest at Varennes, not 
to have her diamonds brought back to France, was often 
anxious about them during the year which elapsed between 
that period and the loth of August, and dreaded above all 
things that such a secret should be discovered. 

In consequence of a decree of the Assembly, which 
deprived the King of the custody of the crown diamonds, 
the Queen had at this time already given up those which 
she generally used. 

She preferred the twelve brilliants called Mazarins from 
the name of the Cardinal who had enriched the treasury 
with them, a few rose-cut diamonds, and the Sand. She 
determined to deliver, with her own hands, the box con- 
taining them to the commissioner nominated by the National 
Assembly to place them with the crown diamonds. After 
giving them to him, she offered him a row of pearls of 
great beauty, saying to him ''that it had been brought into 
France by Anne of Austria ; that it was invaluable, on 
account of its rarity; that having been appropriated by 
that Princess to the use of the Queens and Dauphinesses, 
Louis XV. had placed it in her hands on her arrival in 
France ; but that she considered it national property." — 
"That is an open question, Madame," said the commissary. 
— " Sir," replied the Queen, " it is one for me to decide, 
and is now settled."^ 

My father-in-law, who was dying of the grief he felt for 
the misfortunes of his master and mistress, strongly interested 
and occupied the thoughts of the Queen. He had been 
saved from the fury of the populace in the courtyard of the 
Tuileries. 

^ The date of the sack of the Tuileries and slaughter of the Swiss 
Guard. 

2 See page 32. 



296 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

On the day on which the King was compelled by an 
insurrection to give up a journey to Saint Cloud, her 
Majesty looked upon this trusty servant as inevitably lost, 
if, on going away, she should leave him in the apartment 
he occupied in the Tuileries. Prompted by her apprehen- 
sions, she ordered M. Vicq-d'Azyr, her physician, to recom- 
mend him the waters of Mont d'Or in Auvergne, and to 
persuade him to set off at the latter end of May. At the 
moment of my going away the Queen assured me that the 
grand project would be executed between the 15 th and the 
20th of June; that as it was not my month to be on duty, 
Madame Thibaut would take the journey : but that she 
had many directions to give me before I went. She then 
desired me to write to my aunt, Madame Cardon, who was 
by that time in possession of the clothes which I had 
ordered, that as soon as she should receive a letter from M. 
Auguie, the date of which should be accompanied with a 
B, an L, or an M, she was to proceed with her property to 
Brussels, Luxembourg, or Montmedy. She desired me to 
explain the meaning of these three letters clearly to my 
sister, and to leave them with her in writing, in order that 
at the moment of my going away she might be able to take 
my place in writing to Arras. 

The Queen had a more delicate commission for me ; it 
was to select from among my acquaintance a prudent person 
of obscure rank, wholly devoted to the interests of the 
Court, who would be willing to receive a portfolio which 
she was to give up only to me, or some one furnished with 
a note from the Queen. She added that she would not 
travel with this portfolio, and that it was of the utmost 
importance that my opinion of the fidelity of the person to 
whom it was to be entrusted should be well founded. I 
proposed to her Madame Vallayer Coster, a painter of the 
Academy, and an amiable and worthy artist, whom I had. 



MADAME CAMPAN LEAVES THE QUEEN 297 

known from my infancy. She lived in the galleries of the 
Louvre. The choice seemed a good one. The Queen 
remembered that she had made her marriage possible by 
giving her a place in the financial offices, and added that 
gratitude ought sometimes to be reckoned on. She then 
pointed out to me the valet belonging to her toilette, whom 
I was to take with me, to show him the residence of 
Madame Costeir, so that he might not mistake it when he 
should take the portfolio to her. The day before her de- 
parture the Queen particularly recommended me to proceed 
to Lyons and the frontiers as soon as she should have started. 
She advised me to take with me a confidential person, fit 
to remain with M. Campan when I should leave him, and 

assured me that she would give orders to M. to set 

off as soon as she should be known to be at the frontiers 
in order to protect me in going out. She condescended to 
add that having a long journey to make in foreign countries 
she determined to give me three hundred louis. 

I bathed the Queen's hands with tears at the moment of 
this sorrowful separation ; and having money at my disposal 
I declined accepting her gold. I did not dread the road I 
had to travel in order to rejoin her ; all my apprehension 
was that by treachery or miscalculation a scheme, the safety 
of which was not sufficiently clear to me, should fail. I 
could answer for all those who belonged to the service 
immediately about the Queen's person, and I was right; 
but her wardrobe woman gave me well-founded reason for 
alarm. I mentioned to the Queen many revolutionary 
remarks which this woman had made to me a few days 
before. Her office was directly under the control of the 
first feninie de chambre, yet she had refused to obey the 
directions I gave her, talking insolently to me about 
hierarchy overturned, equality among 7nen, of course more 
especially among persons holding offices at Court ; and this 



298 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

jargon, at that time in the mouths of all the partisans of 
the Revolution, was terminated by an observation which 
frightened me. "You know many important secrets, 
madame," said this woman to me, "and I have guessed 
quite as many. I am not a fool j I see all that is going 
forward here in consequence of the bad advice given to 
the King and Queen ; I could frustrate it all if I chose." 
This argument, in which I had been promptly silenced, left 
me pale and trembling. Unfortunately, as I began my 
narrative to the Queen with particulars of this woman's 
refusal to obey me, and sovereigns are all their lives 
importuned with complaints upon the rights of places, she 
believed that my own dissatisfaction had much to do with 
the step I was taking ; and she did not sufficiently fear the 
woman. Her office, although a very inferior one, brought 
her in nearly fifteen thousand francs a year. Still young, 
tolerably handsome, with comfortable apartments in the 
entresols of the Tuileries, she saw a great deal of company, 
and in the evening had assemblies, consisting of deputies of 
the revolutionary party. M. de Gouvion, major-general of 
the national guard, passed almost every day with her ; and 
it is to be presumed that she had long worked for the party 
in opposition to the Court. The Queen asked her for the 
key of a door which led to the principal vestibule of the 
Tuileries, telling her she wished to have a similar one, that 
she might not be under the necessity of going out through 
the pavilion of Flora. M. de Gouvion and M. de La 
Fayette would, of course, be apprised of this circumstance, 
and well-informed persons have assured me that on the 
very night of the Queen's departure this wretched woman 
had a spy with her, who saw the royal family set off. | 

I 
As soon as I had executed all the Queen's orders, on I 
the 30th of May 1791 I set out for Auvergne, and was 



THE queen's proud COURAGE 299 



settled in the gloomy narrow valley of Mont d'Or, when, 
about four in the afternoon of the 25 th of June, I heard 
the beat of a drum to call the inhabitants of the hamlet 
together. When it had ceased I heard a hairdresser from 
Bresse proclaim in the provincial dialect of Auvergne : 
" The King and Queen were taking flight in order to ruin 
France, but I come to tell you that they are stopped, and 
are well guarded by a hundred thousand men under arms." 
I still ventured to hope 'Ihat he was repeating only a false 
report, but he went on : *'The Queen, with her well-known 
haughtiness, lifted up the veil which covered her face, 
and said to the citizens who were upbraiding the King, 
* Well, since you recognise your sovereign, respect him^ " 
Upon hearing these expressions, which the Jacobin club 
of Clermont could not have invented, I exclaimed, " The 
news is true P^ 

I immediately learnt that a courier being come from 
Paris to Clermont, the procureur of the commune had sent 
off messengers to the chief places of the canton ; these 
again sent couriers to the districts, and the districts in like 
manner informed the villages and hamlets which they con- 
tained. It was through this ramification, arising from the 
establishment of clubs, that the afflicting intelligence of the 
misfortune of my sovereigns reached me in the wildest 
part of France, and in the midst of the snows by which 
we were environed. 

On the 28th I received a note written in a hand which 
1 I recognised as that of M. Diet,^ usher of the Queen's 
' chamber, but dictated by her Majesty. It contained these 
1 words : " I am this moment arrived ; I have just got into 
i my bath ; I and my family exist, that is all. I have suffered 
' much. Do not return to Paris until I desire you. Take 

1 This officer was massacred in the Queen's chamber on the loth of 
August 1792. — Madame Campan. 



300 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

good care of my poor Campan, soothe his sorrow. Look 
for happier times." This note was for greater safety 
addressed to my father-in-law's valet de chambre. What 
were my feelings on perceiving that after the most distressing 
crisis we were among the first objects of the kindness of 
that unfortunate Princess ! 

M. Campan having been unable to benefit by the waters 
of Mont d'Or, and the first popular effervescence having 
subsided, I thought I might re(nrn to Clermont. The 
committee- of surveillance, or that of general safety, had 
resolved to arrest me there ; but the Abbe Louis, formerly 
a parliamentary counsellor, and then a member of the Con- 
stituent Assembly, was kind enough to affirm that I was in 
Auvergne solely for the purpose of attending my father-in- 
law, who was extremely ill. The precautions relative to my 
absence from Paris were limited to placing us under the 
surveillance of the procureur of the commune, who was at 
the same time president of the Jacobin club ; but he was also 
a physician of repute, and without having any doubt that he 
had received secret orders relative to me, I thought it 
would favour the chances of our safety if I selected him to 
attend my patient. I paid him according to the rate given 
to the best Paris physicians, and I requested him to visit us 
every morning and every evening. I took the precaution 
to subscribe to no other newspaper than the Moniteur, 
Doctor Monestier (for that was the physician's name^ 
frequently took upon himself to read it to us. Whenever h< 
thought proper to speak of the King and Queen in the 
insulting and brutal terms at that time unfortunately adoptee 
throughout France, I used to stop him and say coolly, " Sir, 
you are here in company with the servants of Louis XVI, 
and Marie Antoinette. Whatever may be the wrongs witlt 
which the nation believes it has to reproach them, our 
principles forbid our losing sight of the respect due to them 



SPIES IN THE PALACE 301 

from us." Notwithstanding that he was an inveterate 
patriot he felt the force of this remark, and even procured 
the revocation of a second order for our arrest, becoming 
responsible for us to the committee of the Assembly, and to 
the Jacobin society. 

The two chief women about the Dauphin, who had 
accompanied the Queen to Varennes, Diet her usher, and 
Camot her gargon de toilette — the females on account of the 
journey, and the men in consequence of the denunciation 
of the woman belonging to the wardrobe — were sent to the 
prisons of the Abbaye. After my departure the gargon de 
toilette whom I had taken to Madame Vallayer Coster's 
was sent there with the portfolio she had agreed to receive. 
This commission could not escape the detestable spy upon 
the Queen. She gave information that a portfolio had 
been carried out on the evening of the departure, adding 
that the King had placed it upon the Queen's easy-chair, 
that the gargon de toilette wrapped it up in a napkin and 
took it under his arm, and that she did not know where he 
had carried it. The man, who was remarkable for his 
fidelity, underwent three examinations without making the 
slightest disclosure. M. Diet, a man of good family, a 
servant on whom the Queen placed particular reliance, 
likewise experienced the severest treatment. At length, 
after a lapse of three weeks, the Queen succeeded in ob- 
taining the release of her servants. 

The Queen, about the 15 th of August, had me informed 
by letter that I might come back to Paris without being 
under any apprehension of arrest there, and that she greatly 
desired my return. I brought my father-in-law back in a 
dying state, and on the day preceding that of the ac- 
ceptation of the constitutional act, I informed the Queen 
that he was no more. " The loss of Lassonne and 
Campan," said she, as she applied her , handkerchief to 



302 PRIVA TE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

her streaming eyes, "has taught me how valuable such 
subjects are to their masters. I shall never find their 
equals." 

I resumed my functions about the Queen on the ist of 
September 17 91. She was unable then to converse with 
me on all the lamentable events which had occurred since 
the time of my leaving her, having on guard near her an 
officer whom she dreaded more than all the others. She 
merely told me that I should have some secret services to 
perform for her, and that she would not create uneasiness 
by long conversations with me, my return being a subject of 
suspicion. But next day the Queen, well knowing the 
discretion of the officer who was to be on guard that night, 
had my bed placed very near hers, and having obtained the 
favour of having the door shut, when I was in bed she began 
the narrative of the journey, and the unfortunate arrest at 
Varennes. I asked her permission to put on my gown, 
and kneeling by her bedside I remained until three o'clock 
in the morning, listening with the liveHest and most 
sorrowful interest to the account I am about to repeat, and 
of which I have seen various details, of tolerable exactness, 
in papers of the time. 

The King entrusted the Comte de Fersen with all the 
preparations for departure. The carriage was ordered by 
him ; the passport, in the name of Madame de Korf, was 
procured through his connection with that lady, who was a 
foreigner. And lastly, he himself drove the royal family, 
as their coachman, as far as Bondy, where the travellers got 
into their berline. Madame Brunier and Madame Neuville, 
the first women of Madame and the Dauphin, there joined 
the principal carriage. They were in a cabriolet. Mon- 
sieur and Madame set out from the Luxembourg and took 
another road. They as well as the King were recognised 
by the master of the last post in France; but this man,. 



THE FUGITIVES RECOGNISED 303 

devoting himself to the fortunes of the Prince, left the French 
territory, and drove them himself as postilion. Madame 
Thibaut, the Queen's first woman, reached Brussels without 
the slightest difficulty. Madame Cardon, from Arras, met 
with no hindrance ; and Leonard, the Queen's hairdresser, 
passed through Varennes a few hours before the royal 
family. Fate had reserved all its obstacles for the unfor- 
tunate monarch. 

Nothing worthy of notice occurred in the beginning of 

the journey. The travellers were detained a short time, 

about twelve leagues from Paris, by some repairs which the 

carriage required. The King chose to walk up one of the 

hills, and these two circumstances caused a delay of three 

hours, precisely at the time when it was intended that 

the berline should have been met, just before reaching 

Varennes, by the detachment commanded by M. de Gog- 

uelat. This detachment was punctually stationed upon 

the spot fixed on, with orders to wait there for the arrival 

of certain treasure, which it was to escort ; but the peasantry 

of the neighbourhood, alarmed at the sight of this body 

of troops, came armed with staves, and asked several 

questions, which manifested their anxiety. M. de Goguelat, 

fearful of causing a riot, and not finding the carriage arrive as 

he expected, divided his men into two companies, and un- 

i fortunately made them leave the highway in order to return 

I to Varennes by two cross roads.^ The King looked out 

I of the carriage at Sainte Menehould, and asked several 

{questions concerning the road. Drouet, the postmaster, 

I struck by the resemblance of Louis to the impression of 

[his head upon the assignats, drew near the carriage, felt 

convinced that he recognised the Queen also, and that the 

^ Madame Campan here attributes to M. de Goguelat the steps taken 
: by the Due de Choiseal, the motives for which he explains in his Memoirs, 
p. 84. 



304 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

remainder of the travellers consisted of the royal family and 
their suite, mounted his horse, reached Varennes by cross 
roads before the royal fugitives, and gave the alarm.^ 

The Queen began to feel all the agonies of terror ; they 
were augmented by the voice of a person unknown, who, 
passing close to the carriage in full gallop, cried out, bending 
towards the window without slackening his speed, "You 
are recognised !" They arrived with beating hearts at the 
gates of Varennes without meeting one of the horsemen by 
whom they were to have been escorted into the place. 
They were ignorant where to find their relays, and some 
minutes were lost in waiting, to no purpose. The cabriolet 
had preceded them, and the two ladies in attendance found 
the bridge already blocked up with old carts and lumber. 
The town guards were all under arms. The King at last 
entered Varennes. M. de Goguelat had arrived there with 
his detachment. He came up to the King and asked him 
if he chose to effect a passage by force ! What an unlucky 
question to put to Louis XVL, who from the very beginning 
of the Revolution had shown in every crisis the fear he 
entertained of giving the least order which might cause an 
effusion of blood ! "Would it be a brisk action ?" said the 
King. " It is impossible that it should be otherwise, Sire," 
replied the aide-de-camp. Louis XVL was unwilling to ex- 
pose his family. They therefore went to the house of a 
grocer. Mayor of Varennes. The King began to speak, and 
gave a summary of his intentions in departing, analogous 
to the declaration he had made at Paris. He spoke with 
warmth and affability, and endeavoured to demonstrate to 
the people around him that he had only put himself, by the 
step he had taken, into a fit situation to treat with the 
Assembly, and to sanction with freedom the constitution 

1 Varennes lies between Verdun and Montm^dy, and not far from the 
French frontier. 



THE QUEEN AND THE GROCER'S WIFE 305 

which he would maintain, though. many of its articles were 
incompatible with the dignity of the throne, and the force 
by which it was necessary that the sovereign should be 
surrounded. Nothing could be more affecting, added the 
Queen, than this moment, in which the King felt bound 
to communicate to the very humblest class of his sub- 
jects his principles, his wishes for the happiness of his 
people, and the motives which had determined him to 
depart. 

Whilst the King was speaking to this mayor, whose 
name was Sauce, the Queen, seated at the farther end of 
the shop, among parcels of soap and candles, endeavoured 
to make Madame Sauce understand that if she would pre- 
vail upon her husband to make use of his municipal authority 
to cover the flight of the King and his family, she would 
have the glory of having contributed to restore tranquillity 
to France. This woman was moved ; she could not, with- 
out streaming eyes, see herself thus solicited by her Queen ; 
but she could not be got to say anything more than, "Bon 
Dieu, Madame, it would be the destruction of M. Sauce ; 
I love my King, but I love my husband too, you must know, 
and he would be answerable, you see." Whilst this strange 
scene was passing in the shop, the people, hearing that the 
King was arrested, kept pouring in from all parts. M. de 
Goguelat, making a last effort, demanded of the dragoons 
whether they would protect the departure of the King ; they 
repUed only by murmurs, dropping the points of their swords. 
Some person unknown fired a pistol at M. de Goguelat ; he 
was slightly wounded by the ball. M. Romeuf, aide-de- 
camp to M. de La Fayette, arrived at that moment. He 
had been chosen, after the 6th of October 1789, by the 
commander of the Parisian guard to be in constant attend- 
ance about the Queen. She reproached him bitterly with 
the object of his mission. "If you wish to make your 

20 



306 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

name remarkable, sir," said the Queen to him, "you have 
chosen strange and odious means, which will produce the 
most fatal consequences." This officer wished to hasten 
their departure. The Queen, still cherishing the hope of 
seeing M. de Bouille arrive with a sufficient force to ex- 
tricate the King from his critical situation, prolonged her 
stay at Varennes by every means in her power. 

The Dauphin's first woman pretended to be taken ill 
with a violent cohc, and threw herself upon a bed, in the 
hope of aiding the designs of her superiors ; she went and 
implored for assistance. The Queen understood her per- 
fectly well, and refused to leave one who had devoted herself 
to follow them in such a state of suffering. But no delay 
in departing was allowed. The three Body Guards (Valory, 
Du Moustier, and Maiden) were gagged and fastened upon 
the seat of the carriage. A horde of national guards, 
animated with fury and the barbarous joy with which their 
fatal triumph inspired them, surrounded the carriage of the 
royal family. 

The three commissioners sent by the Assembly to meet 
the King, MM. de Latour-Maubourg, Barnave, and Petion, 
joined them in the environs of Epernay. The two la^t 
mentioned got into the King's carriage. The Queen 
astonished me by the favourable opinion she had formed of 
Barnave. When I quitted Paris a great many persons spoke 
of him only with horror. She told me he was much altered, 
that he was full of talent and noble feeling. " A feeling of 
pride which I cannot much blame in a young man belonging 
to the tiers-etatj^' shQ said, " made him applaud everything 
which smoothed the road to rank and fame for that class in 
which he was born. And if we get the power in our own 
hands again, Barnave's pardon is already written on our 
hearts." The Queen added, that she had not the same 
feehng towards those nobles who had joined the revolu- 



BARNAVE AND pAtION 307 

tionary party, who had always received marks of favour, often 
to the injury of those beneath them in rank, and who, born 
to be the safeguard of the monarchy, could never be 
pardoned for having deserted it. She then told me that 
Barnave's conduct upon the road was perfectly correct, 
while Petion's republican rudeness was disgusting ; that the 
latter ate and drank in the King's berline in a slovenly 
manner, throwing the bones of the fowls out through the 
window at the risk of sending them even into the King's 
face ; lifting up his glass, when Madame Elizabeth poured 
him out wine, to show her that there was enough, without 
saying a word ; that this offensive behaviour must have been 
intentional, because the man was not without education ; 
and that Barnave was hurt at it. On being pressed by the 
Queen to take something — " Madame," repHed Barnave, 
"on so solemn an occasion the deputies of the National 
Assembly ought to occupy your Majesties solely about their 
mission, and by no means about their wants." In short, 
his respectful delicacy, his considerate attentions, and all 
that he said, gained the esteem not only of the Queen but 
of Madame Elizabeth also. 

i The King began to talk to Petion about the situation 
of France, and the motives of his conduct, which were 
founded upon the necessity of giving to the executive 
power a strength necessary for its action, for the good even 
of the constitutional act, since France could not be a 
republic. "Not yet, 'tis true," replied Petion, "because 
the French are not ripe enough for that." This audacious 
and cruel answer silenced the King, who said no more 
until his arrival at Paris. Petion held the little Dauphin 
upon his knees, and amused himself with curling the beauti- 
ful light hair of the interesting child round his fingers ; 
and, as he spoke with much gesticulation, he pulled his 
locks hard enough to make the Dauphin cry out. " Give 



3o8 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

me my son," said the Queen to him, "he is accustomed to 
tenderness and deHcacy, which render him Httle fit for such 
famiHarity." 

The ChevaHer de Dampierre was killed near the King's 
carriage upon leaving Varennes. A poor village cure, 
some leagues from the place where the crime was com- 
mitted, was imprudent enough to draw near to speak to the 
King;. the cannibals who surrounded the carriage rushed 
upon him. " Tigers," exclaimed Barnave, " have you 
ceased to be Frenchmen ? Nation of brave men, are you 
become a set of assassins ? " These words alone saved the 
cure, who was already upon the ground, from certain death. 
Barnave, as he spoke to them, threw himself almost out of 
the coach window, and Madame Elizabeth, affected by this 
noble burst of feeling, held him by the skirt of his coat. 
The Queen, while speaking of this event, said that on the 
most momentous occasions whimsical contrasts always 
struck her, and that even at such a moment the pious 
Elizabeth holding Barnave by the flap of his coat was a 
ludicrous sight. The deputy was astonished in another 
way. Madame Elizabeth's comments upon the state of 
France, her mild and persuasive eloquence, and the ease 
and simplicity with which she talked to him, yet without 
sacrificing her dignity in the slightest degree, appeared to 
him unique,- and his heart, which was doubtless inclined to 
right principles though he had followed the wrong path, was 
overcome by admiration. The conduct of the two deputies 
convinced the Queen of the total separation between the re- 
publican and constitutional parties. At the inns where she 
alighted she had some private conversation with Barnave. 
The latter said a great deal about the errors committed by 
the royalists during the Revolution, adding that he had found 
the interest of the Court so feebly and so badly defended 
that he had been frequently tempted to go and offer it, in 



" IVHY BO YOU APPEAL TO THE KING"^ " 309 

himself, an aspiring champion, who knew the spirit of the 
age and nation. The Queen asked him what was the 
weapon he would have recommended her to use. " Popu- 
larity, Madame." — "And how could I use that," replied 
her Majesty, "of which I have been deprived?" — "Ah! 
Madame, it was much more easy for you to regain it, than 
for me to acquire it." 

The Queen mainly attributed the arrest at Varennes to 
M. de Goguelat; she said he calculated the time that 
would be spent in the journey erroneously. He performed 
that from Montmedy to Paris before taking the King's last 
orders, alone in a post-chaise, and he founded all his calcu- 
lations upon the time he spent thus. The trial has 
been made since, and it was found that a light carriage 
without any courier was nearly three hours less in 
running the distance than a heavy carriage preceded by a 
courier.^ 

The Queen also blamed him for having quitted the high 
road at Pont-de-Sommevelle, where the carriage was to 
meet the forty hussars commanded by him. She thought 
that he ought to have dispersed the very small number of 
people at Varennes, and not have asked the hussars whether 
they were for the King or the nation ; that, particularly, he 
ought to have avoided taking the King's orders, as he was 
previously aware of the reply M. d'Inisdal had received 
when it was proposed to carry off the King. 

1 The flight to Varennes, one of the most decisive events of the Re- 
volution, has given birth to a mass of accounts which contradict or 
corroborate one another, but all of vi^hich have their interest. The 
accounts of the Marquis de Bouilld, of M, de Fontanges {Mhnoires de 
Weber), of M. le Due de Choiseul, have already appeared in the Collection 
des Mdmoires sur la Rivohition. The second volume of that collection 
contains also the private memoirs of M. le Comte Louis, afterwards 
Marquis de Bouilld, and the accounts of the Comtes de Raigecourt, de 
Damas, and de Valory, who have all been actors or witnesses in this 
historical scene. — Note by the Editor. 



3IO PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

After all that the Queen had said to me respecting 
the mistakes made by M. de Goguelat, I thought him of 
course disgraced. What was my surprise when, having 
been set at liberty after the amnesty which followed the 
acceptance of the constitution, he presented himself to the 
Queen, and was received with the greatest kindness ! She 
said he had done what he could, and that his zeal ought to 
form an excuse for all the rest.^ 

When the royal family was brought back from Varennes 
to the Tuileries, the Queen's attendants found the greatest 
difficulty in making their way to her apartments ; everything 
had been arranged so that the wardrobe woman, who had 
acted as spy, should have the service ; and she was to be 
assisted in it only by her sister and her sister's daughter. 

M. de Gouvion, M. de La Fayette's aide-de-camp, had 
this woman's portrait placed at the foot of the staircase 
which led to the Queen's apartments, in order that the 
sentinel should not permit any other women to make their 

^ Full details of the preparations for the flight to Varennes will be 
found in Le Comie de Fersen et La Cour de France, Paris, Didot et Cie, 
1878 (a review of which was given in the Quarterly Review for July 1880), 
and in the Memoirs of the Marquis de BouilU, London, Cadell and Davis, 
1797 ; the Comte de Fersen being the person who planned the actual 
escape, and de Bouill^ being in command of the army which was to 
receive the King. The plan was excellent, and would certainly have suc- 
ceeded, if it had not been for the royal family themselves. Marie Antoinette, 
it will have been seen by Madame Campan's account, nearly wrecked the 
plan from inabihty to do without a large dressing or travelling case. The 
King did a more fatal thing. De Bouill^ had pointed out the necessity 
for having in the King's carriage an officer knowing the route, and able to 
show himself to give all directions, and a proper person had been provided. 
The King, however, objected, as "he could not have the Marquis d' Agoull 
in the same carriage with himself ; the governess of the royal children, who 
was to accompany them having refused to abandon her privilege of con- 
stantly remaining with her charge," See BouilU, pp. 307 and 334. Thus, 
when I^ouis was recognised at the window of the carriage by Drouet, he 
was lost by the very danger that had been foreseen, and this wretched 
piece of etiquette led to his death. 



PRISONERS IN THE TUILERIES 311 

way in. As soon as the Queen was informed of this con- 
temptible precaution she told the King of it, who sent to 
ascertain the fact. His Majesty then called for M. de La 
Fayette, claimed freedom in his household, and particularly 
in that of the Queen, and ordered him to send a woman in 
whom no one but himself could confide out of the palace. 
M. de La Fayette was obliged to comply. 

On the day when the return of the royal family was ex- 
pected, there were no carriages in motion in the streets of 
Paris. Five or six of the Queen's women, after being re- 
fused admittance at all the other gates, went with one of my 
sisters to that of the Feuillans, insisting that the sentinel 
should admit them. The poissardes attacked them for their 
boldness in resisting the order excluding them. One of them 
seized my sister by the arm, calling her the slave of the 
Austrian. " Hear me," said my sister to her, " I have been 
attached to the Queen ever since I was fifteen years of age; 
she gave me my marriage portion ; I served her when she 
was powerful and happy. She is now unfortunate. Ought 
I to abandon her?" — "She is right," cried the poissardes ; 
"she ought not to abandon her 'mistress ; let us make an 
entry for them." They instantly surrounded the sentinel, 
forced the passage, and introduced the Queen's women, 
accompanying them to the terrace of the Feuillans. One 
of these furies, whom the slightest impulse would have 
driven to tear my sister to pieces, taking her under her pro- 
tection, gave her advice by which she might reach the 
palace in safety. " But of all things, my dear friend," said 
she to her, "pull off that green ribbon sash; it is the colour 
df that d'Artois, whom we will never forgive." 

The measures adopted for guarding the King were rigor- 
ous with respect to the entrance into the Palace, and insult- 
ing as to his private apartments. The commandants of 
battalion, stationed in the saloon called the. grand cabinet, 



312 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

and which led to the Queen's bed-chamber, were ordered 
to keep the door of it always open, in order that they might 
have their eyes upon the royal family. The King shut this 
door one day ; the officer oif the guard opened it, and told 
him such were his orders, and that he would always open it; 
so that his Majesty in shutting it gave himself useless 
trouble. It remained open even during the night, when the 
Queen was in bed; and the officer placed himself in an 
arm-chair between the two doors, with his head turned 
towards her Majesty. They only obtained permission 
to have the inner door shut when the Queen was 
rising. The Queen had the bed of her first fe?nm,e de 
chambre placed very near her own; this bed, which ran 
on casters, and was furnished with curtains, hid her from 
the officer's sight. 

Madame de Jarjaye, my. companion, who continued her 
functions during the whole 'period of my absence, told me that 
one night the commandant of battalion, who slept between 
the two doors, seeing that she was sleeping soundly, and 
that the Queen was awake, quitted his post and went close 
to her Majesty, to advise her as to the line of conduct she 
should pursue. Although she had the kindness to desire 
him to speak lower in order that he might not disturb 
Madame de Jarj aye's rest, the latter awoke, and nearly died 
with fright ^t seeing a man in the uniform of the Parisian 
guard so near the Queen's bed. Her Majesty comforted 
her, and told her not to rise ; that the person she saw was 
a good Frenchman, who was deceived respecting the inten- 
tions and situation of his sovereign and herself, but whose 
conversation showed sincere attachment to the King. 
There was a sentinel in the corridor which runs behind the 
apartments in question, where there is a staircase, which 
was at that time an inner one, and enabled the King and 
Queen to communicate freely. This post, which was very. 



THE queen's white HAIR 



313 



onerous, because it was to be kept four-and-twenty hours, 
was often claimed by Saint Prix, an actor belonging to the 
Theatre Frangais. He took it upon himself sometimes to 
contrive brief interviews between the King and Queen in 
this corridor. He left them at a distance, and gave them 
warning if he heard the slightest noise. M. Collot, com- 
mandant of battalion of the national guard, who was charged 
with the military duty of the Queen's household, in like 
manner softened down, so far as he could with prudence, 
all the revolting orders he received; for instance, one to 
follow the Queen to the very door of her wardrobe was 
never executed. An officer of the Parisian guard dared to 
speak insolently of the Queen in her own apartment. M. 
Collot wished to make a complaint to M. de La Fayette 
against him, and have him dismissed. The Queen opposed 
it, and condescended to say a few words of explanation and 
kindness to the man ; he instantly became one of her most 
devoted partisans. 

The first time I saw her Majesty after the unfortunate 
catastrophe of the Varennes journey, I found her getting 
out of bed ; her features were not very much altered ; but 
after the first kind words she uttered to me she took off her 
cap and desired me to observe the effect which grief had 
produced upon her hair. It had become, in one single 
night, as white as that of a woman of seventy. Her 
Majesty showed me a ring she had just had mounted for 
the Princesse de Lamballe; it contained a lock of her 
whitened hair, with the inscription, ''''Blanched by sorrow ^ 
At the period of the acceptance of the constitution the 
Princess wished to return to France. The Queen, who 
had no expectation that tranquillity would be restored, 
opposed this; but the attachment of Madame de Lam- 
balle to the royal family impelled her to come and seek 
death. 



314 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

When I returned to Paris most of the harsh precautions 
were abandoned; the doors were not kept open; greater 
respect was paid to the sovereign ; it was known that the 
constitution soon to be completed would be accepted, and 
a better order of things was hoped for. 



CHAPTER XIX 

Acceptance of the constitution — Opinion of Barnave and his friends 
approved by the Court of Vienna — Secret policy of the Court — 
The Legislative Assembly deliberates upon the ceremony to be 
observed on receiving the King — Offensive motion — Louis XVI. 
is received by the Assembly with transport — He gives way to pro- 
found grief when with his family — Public fetes and rejoicings — 
M. de Montmorin's conversation with Madame Campan upon the 
continual indiscretions of the people about the Court — The royal 
family go to the Theatre Fran9ais — Play changed — Personal 
conflicts in the pit of the Italiens — Double correspondence of the 
Court with foreign powers — Maison Civile — The Queen's mis- 
fortunes do not alter the sweetness of her disposition — Method 
adopted by the Queen respecting her secret correspondence — 
Madame Campan's conduct when attacked by both parties — 
Particulars respecting M. Genet, her brother, charge d'affaires 
from France to Russia — Written testimony of the Queen in favour 
of Madame Campan's zeal and fidehty — The King comes to see 
her, and confirms these marks of confidence and satisfaction — 
Projected interview between Louis XVI. and Barnave — Attempts 
to poison Louis XVI. — Precautions taken — The Queen consults 
Pitt about the Revolution — His reply — The emigres oppose all 
alliance with the constitutionals — Letter from Barnave to the 
Queen. 

On my arrival at Paris on the 25 th of August I found the 
state of feeUng there much more temperate than I had 
dared to hope. The conversation generally ran upon the 
acceptance of the constitution, and the fetes which would be 
given in consequence. The struggle between the Jacobins 
and the constitutionals on the 17th of July 1791 neverthe- 



3i6 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

less had thrown the Queen into great terror for some 
moments ; and the firing of the cannon from the Champ de 
Mars upon a party which called for a trial of the King, and 
the leaders of which were in the very bosom of the 
Assembly, left the most gloomy impressions upon her mind. 

The constitutionals, the Queen's connection with whom 
was not slackened by the intervention of the three members 
already mentioned, had faithfully served the royal family 
during their detention. 

''We still hold the wire by which this popular mass. is 

moved," said Barnave to M. de J one day, at the same 

time showing him a large volume, in which the names of all 
those who were influenced by the power of gold alone were 
registered. It was at that time proposed to hire a consider- 
able number of persons in order to secure loud acclamations 
when the King and his family should make their appearance 
at the play upon the acceptance of the constitution. That 
day, which afforded a glimmering hope of tranquillity, was the 
14th of September ; \h.& fetes were brilliant; but already fresh 
anxieties forbade the royal family to encourage much hope. 

The Legislative Assembly, which had just succeeded the 
Constituent Assembly (October 1791), founded its conduct 
upon the wildest republican principles ; created from the 
midst of popular assemblies, it was wholly inspired by the 
spirit which ^animated them. The constitution, as I have 
said, was presented to the King on the 3d of September 
1 791. The ministers, with the exception of M. de 
Montmorin, insisted upon the necessity of accepting the 
constitutional act in its entirety. The Prince de Kaunitz ^ 
was of the same opinion. Malouet wished the King to 
express himself candidly respecting any errors or dangers 
that he might observe in the constitution. But Duport and 
Barnave, alarmed at the spirit prevailing in the Jacobin 
1 Minister of Austria, 



INFLUENCE OF LA FAYETTE 317 

Clubji and even in the Assembly, where Robespierre had 
already denounced them as traitors to the country, and 
dreading still greater evils, added their opinions to those of 
the majority of the ministers and M. de Kaunitz ; those 
who really desired that the constitution should be main- . 
tained advised that it should not be accepted thus literally. 
The King seemed inclined to this advice ; and this is one 
of the strongest proofs of his sincerity. 

Alexandre Lameth, Duport, and Barnave, still relying 
on the resources of their party, hoped to have credit for 
directing the King through the influence they believed they 
had acquired over the mind of the Queen. They also 
consulted people of acknowledged talent, but belonging to 
no council nor to any assembly. Among these was M. 
Dubucq, formerly intendant of the marine and of the 
colonies. He answered laconically in one phrase : " Prevent 
disorder from organising it self. ^^ 

The letter written by the King to the Assembly, claiming 
to accept the constitution in the very place where it had 
been created, and where he announced he would be on the 
14th September at mid -day, was received with transport, 
and the reading was repeatedly interrupted by plaudits. 
The sitting terminated amidst the greatest enthusiasm, and 
M. de La Fayette obtained the release of all those who 
were detained on account of the King's journey [to 
Varennes], the abandonment of all proceedings relative to 
the events of the Revolution, and the discontinuance of 
the use of passports and of temporary restraints upon free 
traveUing, as well in the interior as without. The whole 
was conceded by acclamation. Sixty members were 
deputed to go to the King and express to him fully the 

1 The extreme revolutionary party, so called from the club, originally 
"Breton," then "Amis de la Constitution," sitting at the convent of the 
Dominicans (called in France Jacobins) of the Rue Saint Honord 



3i8 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

satisfaction his Majesty's letter had given. The Keeper of 
the Seals quitted the chamber, in the midst of applause, to 
precede the deputation to the King. 

The King answered the speech addressed to him, and 
concluded by saying to the Assembly that a decree of that 
morning, which had abolished the order of the Holy Ghost, 
had left him and his son alone permission to be decorated 
with it ; but that an order having no value in his eyes, save 
for the power of conferring it, he would not use it. 

The Queen, her son, and Madame, were at the door of 
the chamber into which the deputation was admitted. The 
King said to the deputies, "You see there my wife and 
children, who participate in my sentiments ; " and the 
Queen herself confirmed the King's assurance. These 
apparent marks of confidence were very inconsistent with 
the agitated state of her mind. "These people want no 
sovereigns," said she. " We shall fall before their treacher- 
ous though well-planned tactics ; they are demolishing the 
monarchy stone by stone." 

Next day the particulars of the reception of the deputies 
by the King were reported to the Assembly, and excited 
warm approbation. But the President having put the 
question whether the Assembly ought not to remain seated 
while ^e King took the oath — "Certainly," was repeated 
by many voices; ''^ and the King, standing, tmcovered." M. 
Malouet observed that there was no occasion on which the 
nation, assembled in the presence of the King, did not 
acknowledge him as its head; that the omission to treat 
the head of the State with the respect due to him would be 
an offence to the nation, as well as to the monarch. He 
moved that the King should take the oath standing, and 
that the Assembly should also stand while he was doing so. 
M. Malouet's observations would have carried the decree, 
but a deputy from Brittany exclaimed, with a shrill voice, . 



" THESE PEOPLE WANT NO SOVEREIGNS I '"'' 319 

''that he had an amendment to propose which would 
render all unanimous. Let us decree," said he, "that M. 
Malouet, and whoever else, shall so please, may have leave 
to receive the King upon their knees ; but let us stick to 
the decree." 

The King repaired to the chamber at mid -day. His 
speech was followed by plaudits which lasted several 
minutes. After the signing of the constitutional act all sat 
down. The President rose to deliver his speech ; but after 
he had begun, perceiving that the King did not rise to hear 
him, he sat down again. His speech made a powerful im- 
pression; the sentence with which it concluded excited 
fresh acclamations, cries oi ^^ Bravo ! ^"^ and " Vive le Roi !^^ 
"Sire," said he, "how important in our eyes, and how dear 
to our hearts^how sublime a feature in our history — must 
be the epoch of that regeneration which gives citizens to 
France, and a country to Frenchmen — to you, as a King, 
a new title of greatness and glory, and, as a man, a source 
.of new enjoyment." The whole Assembly accompanied the 
King on his return, amidst the people's cries of happiness, 
military music, and salvoes of artillery. 

At length I hoped to see a return of that tranquillity 
which had so long vanished from the countenances of my 
august master and mistress. Their suite left theih in the 
salon ; the Queen hastily saluted the ladies, and returned 
much affected ; the King followed her, and, throwing him- 
self into an arm-chair, put his handkerchief to his eyes. 
"Ah! Madame," cried he, his voice choked by tears, 

"why were you present at this sitting? to witness " 

these words were interrupted by sobs. The Queen threw 
herself upon her knees before him, and pressed him in her 
arms. I remained with them, not from any blamable 
curiosity, but from a stupefaction which rendered me in- 
capable of determining what I ought to do. The Queen 



320 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

said to me, " Oh I go, go /" with an accent which expressed, 
" Do not remain to see the dejection and despair of your 
sovereign ! " I withdrew, struck with the contrast between 
the shouts of joy without the Palace and the profound 
grief which oppressed the sovereigns within. Half an hour 
afterwards the Queen sent for me. She desired to see M. 
de Goguelat, to announce to him his departure on that 
very night for Vienna. The renewed attacks upon the 
dignity of the throne which had been made during the 
sitting ; the spirit of an Assembly worse than the former ; 
the monarch put upon a level with the President, without 
any deference to the throne — all this proclaimed but too 
loudly that the sovereignty itself was aimed at. The Queen 
no longer saw any ground for hope from the Provinces. 
The King wrote to the Emperor; she told me that she 
would herself, at midnight, bring the letter which M. de 
Goguelat was to bear to the Emperor, to my room. 

During all the remainder of the day the Chateau and the 
Tuileries were crowded ; the illuminations were magnificent 
The King and Queen were requested to take an airing in 
their carriage in the Champs-Elysees, escorted by the aides- 
de-camp and leaders of the Parisian army, the constitutional 
guard not being at the time organised. Many shouts of 
" Vive le Roil" were heard; but as often as they ceased, 
one of the mob, who never quitted the door of the King's 
carriage for' a single instant, exclaimed with a stentorian 
voice, " No J don't believe them ; vive la Nation I " This 
ill-omened cry struck terror into the Queen. 

A few days afterwards M. de Montmorin sent to say he 
wanted to speak to me ; that he would come to me, if he 
were not apprehensive his doing so would attract observa- 
tion ; and that he thought it would appear less conspicuous 
if he should see me in the Queen's great closet at a time 
which he specified, and when nobody would be there. I 



THE COMTE DE MONTMORIN 321 

went. After having made some polite observations upon 
the services I had already performed, and those I might 
yet perform, for my master and mistress, he spoke to me 
of the King's imminent danger, of the plots which were 
hatching, and of the lamentable composition of the Legisla- 
tive Assembly ', and he particularly dwelt upon the necessity 
of appearing, by prudent remarks, determined as much as 
possible to abide by the act the King had just recognised. 
I told him that could not be done without committing our- 
selves in the eyes of the royalist party, with which modera- 
tion was a crime; that it was painful to hear ourselves 
taxed with being constitutionals, at the same time that it 
was our opinion that the only constitution which was con- 
sistent with the King's honour, and the happiness and 
tranquillity of his people, was the absolute power of the 
'sovereign ; that this was my creed, and it would pain me to 
give any room for suspicion that I was wavering in it. 
"Could you ever believe," said he, "that I should desire 
any other order of things ? Have you any doubt of my 
attachment to the King's person, and the maintenance of 
his rights ?" — " I know it. Count," replied I ; " but you are 
not ignorant that you lie under the imputation of having 
adopted revolutionary ideas." — "Well, madame, have reso- 
lution enough to dissemble and to conceal your real senti- 
ments ; dissimulation was never more necessary. Endeavours 
are being made to paralyse the evil intentions of the 
factious as much as possible ; but we must not be counter- 
acted here by certain dangerous expressions which are 
circulated in Paris as coming from the King and Queen," 
I told him that I had been already struck with apprehension 
of the evil which might be done by the intemperate 
observations of persons who had no power to act; and 
that I had felt ill consequences from having repeatedly 
enjoined silence on those in the Queen's service. " I know 

21 



322 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

that," said the Count ; " the Queen informed me of it, and 
that determined me to come and request you to increase 
and keep alive, as much as you can, that spirit of discretion 
which is so necessary." 

While the household of the King and Queen were a 
prey to all these fears, the festivities in celebration of the 
acceptance of the constitution proceeded. Their Majesties 
went to the opera; the audience consisted entirely of 
persons who sided with the King, and on that day the 
happiness of seeing him for a short time surrounded by 
faithful subjects might be enjoyed. The acclamations were 
then sincere. 

La Coquette corrigee had been selected for representation 
at the Theatre Frangais solely because it was the piece in 
which Mademoiselle Contat shone most. Yet the notions 
propagated by the Queen's enemies coinciding in my mind' 
with the name of the play, I thought the choice very ill 
judged. I was at a loss, however, how to tell her Majesty 
so ; but sincere attachment gives courage. I explained 
myself; she was obliged to me, and desired that another 
play might be performed. They accordingly selected La 
Gouvernante^ almost equally unfortunate in title. 

The Queen, Madame the King's daughter, and Madame 
Elizabeth, were all well received on this occasion. It is 
true that the opinions and feelings of the spectators in the 
boxes could not be otherwise than favourable, and great 
pains had been taken, previously to these two performances, 
to fill the pit with proper persons. But, on the other 
hand, the Jacobins took the same precautions on their side 
at the Theatre Itahen, and the tumult was excessive there. 
The play was Gretry's Les Evinemens imprevus. Unfor- 
tunately, Madame Dugazon thought proper to bow to the 
Queen as she sang the words, ^^ Ah, how I love my 
mistress P' in a duet. Above twenty voices immediately 



THE PRINCES URGED TO RETURN 323 

exclaimed from the pit, " No mistress f no master ! liberty /" 
A few replied from the boxes and slips, " Vive le Roi ! vive 
la Reine f' Those in the pit answered, ^^ No 7?iaster f no 
Queen /" The quarrel increased ; the pit formed into 
parties ; they began fighting, and the Jacobins were beaten ; 
tufts of their black hair flew about the theatre.^ A military 
guard arrived. The Faubourg Saint Antoine, hearing of 
what was going on at the Theatre Italien, flocked together, 
and began to talk of marching towards the scene of action. 
The Queen preserved the calmest demeanour; the com- 
mandants of the guard surrounded and encouraged her; 
they conducted themselves promptly and discreetly. No 
accident happened. The Queen was highly applauded as 
she quitted the theatre : it was the last time she was ever 
in one ! 

While couriers were bearing confidential letters from the 
King to the Princes, his brothers, and to the foreign 
sovereigns, the Assembly invited him to write to the Princes 
in order to induce them to return to France. The King 
desired the Abbe de Montesquiou to write the letter he was 
to send ; this letter, which was admirably composed in a 
simple and affecting style, suited to the character of 
Louis XVI., and filled with very powerful arguments in 
favour of the advantages to be derived from adopting the 
principles of the constitution, was confided to me by the 
King, who desired me to make him a copy of it. 

At this period M. M , one of the intendants of 

Monsieur's household, obtained a passport from the As- 
sembly to join that Prince on business relative to his 
domestic concerns. The Queen selected him to be the 
bearer of this letter. She determined to give it to him 
herself, and to inform him of its object. I was astonished 

^ At this time none but the Jacobins had discontinued the use of hair- 
powder. — Madame Campan. 



324 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

at her choice of this courier. The Queen assured me he 
was exactly the man for her purpose, that she reUed even 
upon his indiscretion, and that it was merely necessary that 
the letter from the King to his brothers should be known 
to exist. The Princes were doubtless informed beforehand 
on the subject by the private correspondence. Monsieur 
nevertheless manifested some degree of surprise, and the 
messenger returned more grieved than pleased at this mark 
of confidence, which nearly cost him his life during the 
Reign of Terror. 

Among the^causes of-^ijiiieasiness to the Queen there was 
one whfch was but too well founded — the thoughtlessness 
of the French whom she sent to foreign Courts. She used 
to say that they had no sooner passed the frontiers than 
they disclosed the mo^t secret matters relative to the King'sfttt 
private sentiments, and that the leaders of the Revolution 
were informed df them through their agents, many of whom 
were Frenchmen who passed themselves off as emigrants 
in the cause of»their King. 

After the acceptance of the constitution the formation 
of the King's household, as well military as civil, formed a 
subject of attention. The Due de Brissac had the com- 
mand of the constitutional guard, which was composed of 
officers and men selected from the regiments, and of 
several officers drawn from the national guard of Paris. 
The King was satisfied with the feelings and conduct of 
this band, which, as is well known, existed but a very short 
time, i 

The new constitution abolished what were called honours, 
and the prerogatives belonging to them. The Duchesse 
de Duras resigned her place of lady of the bed-chamber, 
not choosing to lose her right to the tabouret at Court. 
This step hurt the Queen, who saw herself forsaken through 
the loss of a petty privilege at a time when her own rights- 



9 



THE QUEEN BETWEEN TWO PARTIES 325 

and even life were so hotly attacked. Many ladies of rank 
left the Court for the same reason. However, the King 
and Queen did not dare to form the civil part of their 
household, lest by giving the new names of the posts they 
should acknowledge the abolition of the old ones, and also 
lest they should admit into the highest positions persons 
not calculated to fill them well. Some time was spent in 
discussing the question, whether the household should be 
formed without chevaliers and without ladies of honour. 
The Queen's constitutional advisers were ^f opinion that 
the Assembly, having decreed ^, civil list adequate to 
uphold the splendour of the tlirone, would be dffesatisfied 
at seeing the King adopting only a military household, and 
not forming his civil household upon the new constitutional 
plan. " How is it, Madame, " wrote^^arnave to thg Queen, 
"that you will persist in giving these people even the 
smallest doubt as to your sentiments ? When they decree 
you a civil and a military household, you, like young 
Achilles among the daughters of Lycomedes, eagerly seize 
the sword and scorn the mere ornaments." The Queen 
persisted in her determination to have no civil household. 
"If," said she, "this constitutional household be formed, 
not a single person of rank will remain with us, and upon 
a change of affairs we shoiiM be obliged to discharge the 
persons received into their place." 

"Perhaps," added she, "perhaps I might find one day 
that I had saved the nobility, if I now had resolution 
enough to afflict them for a time : I have it not. When 
any measure which injures them is wrested from us they 
sulk with me ; nobody comes to my card party ; the King 
goes unattended to bed. No allowance is made for 
political necessity; we are punished for our very mis- 
fortunes." 

The Queen wrote almost all day, and spent part of the 



326 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

night in reading : her courage supported her physical 
strength ; her disposition was not at all soured by mis- 
fortune, and she was never seen in an ill-humour for a 
moment. She was, however, held up to the people as a 
woman absolutely furious and mad whenever the rights of 
the Crown were in any way attacked. 

I was with her one day at one of her windows. We saw 
a man plainly dressed, like an ecclesiastic, surrounded by 
an immense crowd. The Queen imagined it was some 
abbe whom they were about to throw into the basin of the 
Tuileries ; she hastily opened her window and sent a valet 
de chambre to know what was going forward in the garden. 
It was Abbe Gregoire, whom the men and women of the 
tribunes were bringing back in triumph, on account of a 
motion he had just made in the National Assembly against 
the royal authority. On the following day the democratic 
journalists described the Queen as witnessing this triumph, 
and showing, by expressive gestures at her window, how 
highly she was exasperated by the honours conferred upon 
the patriot. 

The correspondence between the Queen and the foreign 
powers was carried on in cipher. That to which she gave 
the preference can never be detected; but the greatest 
patience is requisite for its use. Each correspondent must 
have a copy of the same edition of some work. She 
selected Paul and Virgzfiia. The page and line in which 
the letters required, and occasionally a monosyllable, are to 
be found are pointed out in ciphers agreed upon. I 
assisted her in finding the letters, and frequently I made an 
exact copy for her of all that she had ciphered, without 
knowing a single word of its meaning. 

There were always several secret committees in Paris 
occupied in collecting information for the King respecting 
the measures of the factions, and in influencing some of the 



SECRET SERVICE 327 

committees of the Assembly. M. Bertrand de Molleville 
was in close correspondence with the Queen. The King 
employed M. Talon and others ; much money was expended 
through the latter channel for the secret measures. The 
Queen had no confidence in them. M. de Laporte, 
minister of the civil list and of the household, also 
attempted to give a bias to public opinion by means of 
hireling publications ; but these papers influenced none but 
the royahst party, which did not need influencing. M. de 
Laporte had a private police which gave him some useful 
information. 

I determined to sacrifice myself to my duty, but J3y no 
means to any intrigue, and I thought that, circumstanced 
as I was, I ought to confine myself to obeying the Queen's 
orders. I frequently sent off couriers to foreign countries, 
and they were never discovered, so many precautions did I 
take. I am indebted for the preservation of my own ex- 
istence to the care I took never to admit any deputy to my 
abode, and to refuse all interviews which even people of the 
highest importance often requested of me ; but this line of 
conduct exposed me to every species of ill-will, and on the 
same day I saw myself denounced by Prud'homme, in his 
Gazette Revolutionnaire^ as capable of making an aristocrat 
of the mother of the Gracchi, if a person so dangerous as 
myself could have got into her household ; and by Gauthier's 
Gazette Royaliste, as a monarchist, a constitutionalist, more 
dangerous to the Queen's interests than a Jacobin. 

At this period an event with which I had nothing to do 
placed me in a still more critical situation. My brother, 
M. Genet, began his diplomatic career successfully. At 
eighteen he was attached to the embassy to Vienna j at 
twenty he was appointed chief secretary of Legation in 
England, on occasion of the peace of 1783. A memorial 
which he presented to M. de Vergennes upon the dangers 



328 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

of the treaty of commerce then entered into with England 
gave offence to M. de Calonne, a patron of that treaty, and 
particularly to M. Gerard de Rayneval, chief clerk for 
foreign affairs. So long as M. de Vergennes lived, having 
upon my father's death declared himself the protector of 
my brother, he supported him against the enemies his views 
had created. But on his death M. de Montmorin, being 
much in need of the long experience in business which he 
found in M. de Rayneval, was guided solely by the latter. 
The office of which my brother was the head was sup- 
pressed. He then went to St Petersburg, strongly recom- 
mended to the Comte de Segur, minister from France to 
that Court, who appointed him secretary of Legation. 
Some time afterwards the Comte de Segur left him at St. 
Petersburg, charged with the affairs of France. After his 
return from Russia M. Genet was appointed ambassador to 
the United States by the party called Girondists, the 
deputies who headed it being from the department of the 
Gironde. He was recalled by the Robespierre party, 
which overthrew the former faction, on the 31st of May 
1793, and condemned to appear before the Convention^ 
Vice-President Clinton, at that time Governor of New York, 
offered him an asylum in his house and the hand of his 
daughter, and M. Genet established himself prosperously in 
America. 

When my brother quitted Versailles he was much hurt 
at being deprived of a considerable income for having 
penned a memorial which his zeal alone had dictated, and 
the importance of which was afterwards but too well under- 
stood. I perceived from his correspondence that he inclined 
to some of the new notions. He told me it was right he 
should no longer conceal from me that he sided with the 
constitutional party ; that the King had in fact commanded 
it, having himself accepted the constitution ; that lie would 



THE QUEEN'S MISGIVINGS 329 

proceed firmly in that course, because in this case dis- 
ingenuousness would be fatal, and that he took that side of 
the question because he had had it proved to him that the 
foreign powers would not serve the King's cause without 
advancing pretensions prompted by long-standing interests, 
which always would influence their councils ; that he saw 
no salvation for the King and Queen but from within France, 
and that he would serve the constitutional King as he served 
him before the Revolution. And lastly, he requested me 
to impart to the Queen the real sentiments of one of his 
Majesty's agents at a foreign Court. I immediately went 
to the Queen and gave her my 'brother's letter, she read it 
attentively, and said, " This is the letter of a young man led 
astray by discontent and ambition ; I know you do not 
think as he does ; do not fear that you will lose the 
confidence of the King and myself." I offered to dis- 
continue all correspondence with my brother ; she opposed 
that, saying it would be dangerous. I then entreated she 
would permit me in future to show her my own and my 
brother's letters, to which she consented. I wrote warmly 
to my brother against the course he had adopted. I sent 
my letters by sure channels ; he answered me by the post, 
and no longer touched upon anything but family affairs. 
Once only he informed me that if I should write to him 
respecting the affairs of the day he would give me no answer. 
" Serve your august mistress with the unbounded devotion 
which is due from you," said he, "and let us each do our 
duty. I will only observe to you that at Paris the fogs of 
the Seine often prevent people from seeing that immense 
capital, even from the Pavilion of Flora, and I see it more 
clearly from St. Petersburg." The Queen said, as she read 
this letter, " Perhaps he speaks but too truly ; who can 
decide upon so disastrous a position as ours has become?" 
The day on which I gave the Queen, my brother's first 



330 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

letter to read she had several audiences to give to ladies 
and other persons belonging to the Court, who came on 
purpose to inform her that my brother was an avowed con- 
stitutional and revolutionist. The Queen replied, " I know 
it; Madame Campan has told me so." Persons jealous of 
my situation having subjected me to mortifications, and 
these unpleasant circumstances recurring daily, I requested 
the Queen's permission to withdraw from Court. She 
exclairhed against the very idea, represented it to me as 
extremely dangerous for my own reputation, and had the 
kindness to add that, for my sake as well as for her own, 
she never would consent to it. After this conversation 1 
retired to my apartment. A few minutes later a footman 
brought me this note from the Queen : — " I have never 
ceased to give you and yours proofs of my attachment ; I 
wish to tell you in writing that I have full faith in your 
honour and fidelity, as well as in your other good qualities ; 
and that I ever rely on the zeal and address you exert to 
serve me."^ 

At the moment that I was going to express my gratitude 

1 I had just received this letter from the Queen when M. de la Chapelle, 
commissary general of the King's household, and head of the offices of M. 
de Laporte, minister of the civil list, came to see me. The Palace having 
been already sacked by the brigands on the 20th of June 1792, he proposed 
that I should entrust the paper to him, that he might place it in a safer 
situation than the apartments of the Queen. When he returned into his 
offices he placed the letter she had condescended to write to me behind a 
large picture in his closet ; but on the loth of August M. de la Chapelle 
was thrown into the prisons of the Abbaye, and the committee of public 
safety estabhshed themselves in his offices, whence they issued all their 
decrees of death. There it was that a villainous servant belonging to M. 
de Laporte went to declare that in the minister's apartment, under a board 
in the floor, a number of papers would be found. They were brought 
forth, and M. de Laporte was sent to the scaffold, where he suffered /(?r 
having betrayed the State by serving his master and sovereign. M. de la 
Chapelle was saved, as if by a miracle, from the massacres of the 2d of 
September. The committee of public safety having removed to the King's 



KINDNESS OF THE KING 331 

to the Queen I heard a tapping at the door of my room, 
which opened upon the Queen's inner corridor ; I opened 
it : it was the King. I was confused ; he perceived it, and 
said to me kindly, "I alarm you, Madame Campan ; I 
come, however, to comfort you; the Queen has told me 
how much she is hurt at the injustice of several persons 
towards you. But how is it that you complain of injustice 
and calumny when you see that we are victims of them ? 
In some of your companions it is jealousy ', in the people 
belonging to the Court it is anxiety. Our situation^ is so 
disastrous, and we have met with so much ingratitude and 
treachery, that the apprehensions of those who love us are 
excusable ! I could quiet them by telling them all the 
secret services you perform for us daily ; but I will not do 
it. Out of good-will to you they would repeat all I should 
say, and you would be lost with the Assembly. It is much 
better, both for you and for us, that you should be thought 
a constitutional. It has been mentioned to me a hundred 
times already ; I have never contradicted it ; but I come to 
give you my word that if we are fortunate enough to see an 
end of all this, I will, at the Queen's residence, and in the 
presence of my brothers, relate the important services you 
have rendered us, and I will recompense you and your son 
for them." I threw myself at the King's feet and kissed 
his hand. He raised me up, saying, " Come, come, do not 
grieve ; the Queen, who loves you, confides in you as I do." 
Down to the day of the acceptance it was impossible to 
introduce Barnave into the interior of the Palace ; but when 

apartments at the Tuileries, M, de la Chapelle had permission to return 
to his closet to take away some property belonging to him. Turning round 
the picture, behind which he had hidden the Queen's letter, he found it in 
the place into which he had slipped it, and, delighted to see that I was 
safe from the ill consequences the discovery of this paper might have 
brought upon me, he burnt it instantly. In times of danger a mere nothing 
may save life or destroy it. — Madame Campan. 



332 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

the Queen was free from the inner guard she said she would 
see him. The very great precautions which it was neces- 
sary for the deputy to take in order to conceal his connec- 
tion with the King and Queen compelled them to spend 
two hours waiting for him in one of the corridors of the 
Tuileries, and all in vain. The first day that he was to be 
admitted a man whom Barnave knew to be dangerous having 
met him in the courtyard of the Palace, he determined to 
cross it without stopping, and walked in the gardens in 
order to lull suspicion. I was desired to wait for Barnave 
at a little door belonging to the entresols of the Palace, with 
my hand upon the open lock. I was in that position for an 
hour. The King came to me frequently, and always to speak 
to me of the uneasiness which a servant belonging to the 
Chateau, who was a patriot, gave him. He came again to ask 
me whether I had heard the door called de Decret opened. 
I assured him nobody had been in the corridor, and 
he became easy. He was , dreadfully apprehensive that his 
connection with Barnave would be discovered. " It would," 
said the King, " be a ground for grave accusations, and the 
unfortunate man would be lost." I then ventured to remind 
his Majesty that as Barnave was not the only one in the 
secret of the business which brought him in contact with their 
Majesties, one of his colleagues might be induced to speak of 
the association with which they were honoured, and that in 
letting them know by my presence that I also was informed 
of it, a risk was incurred of removing from those gentlemen 
part of the responsibility of the secret. Upon this observa- 
tion the King quitted me hastily and returned a moment 
aftei wards with the Queen. " Give me your place," said 
she, " I will wait for him in my turn. You have convinced 
the King. We must not increase in their eyes the number 
of persons informed of their communications with us." 
The police of M. de Laporte, intendant of the civil list, • 



PRECAUTIONS AGAINST POISON 333 

apprised him, as early as the latter end of 1791, that a man 
belonging to the King's offices who had set up as a pastry- 
cook at the Palais Royal was about to resume the duties of 
his situation, which had devolved upon him again on the 
death of one who held it for life ; that he was so furious a 
Jacobin that he had dared to say it would be a good thing 
for France if the King's days were shortened. His duty was 
confined to making the pastry ; he was closely watched by 
the head officers of the kitchen, who were devoted to his 
Majesty ; but it is so easy to introduce a subtle poison into 
made dishes that it was determined the King and Queen 
should eat only plain roast meat in future; that their bread 
should be brought to them by M. Thierry de Ville-d'Avray, 
intendant of the smaller apartments, and that he should 
likewise take upon himself to supply the wine. The King 
was fond of pastry ; I was directed to order some, as if for 
myself, sometimes of one pastry-cook, and sometimes of 
another. The pounded sugar, too, was kept in my room. 
The King, the Queen, and Madame Elizabeth ate together, 
and nobody remained to wait on them. Each had a dumb 
waiter and a little bell to call the servants w^hen they were 
wanted. M. Thierry used himself to bring me their 
Majesties' bread and wine, and I locked them up in a 
private cupboard in the King's closet on the ground floor. 
As soon as the King sat down to table I took in the pastry 
and bread. All was hidden under the table lest it might 
be necessary to have the servants in. The King thought it 
dangerous as well as distressing to show any apprehension 
of attempts against his person, or any mistrust of his officers 
of the kitchen. As he never drank a whole bottle of wine 
at his meals (the Princesses drank nothing but water), he 
filled up that out of which he had drunk about half from 
the bottle served up by the officers of his butlery. I took 
it away after dinner. Although he never ate any other 



334 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

pastry than that which I brought, he took care in the same 
manner that it should seem that he had eaten of that served 
at table. The lady who succeeded me found this duty all 
regulated, and she executed it in the same manner; the 
public never was in possession of these particulars, nor of the 
apprehensions which gave rise to them. At the end of 
three or four months the police of M. de Laporte gave 
notice that nothing more was to be dreaded from that sort 
of plot against the King's life ; that the plan was entirely 
changed; and that all the blows now to be struck would 
be directed as much against the throne as against the 
person of the sovereign. 

There are others besides myself who know that at this 
time one of the things about which the Queen most desired 
to be satisfied was the opinion of the famous Pitt. She 
would sometimes say to r^e, " I never pronounce the name 
oi Pitt without feeling a chill like that of death" (I repeat 
here her very expressions). "That man is the mortal 
enemy of France ; and he takes a dreadful revenge for the 
impolitic support given by the cabinet of Versailles to the 
American insurgents. He wishes by our destruction to 
guarantee the maritime power of his country for ever against 
the efforts made by the King to improve his marine power 
and their happy results during the last war. He knows 
that it is not only the King's policy but his private inclina- 
tion to be solicitous about his fleets, and that the most 
active step he has taken during his whole reign was to visit 
the port of Cherbourg. Pitt has served the cause of the 
French Revolution from the first disturbances; he will 
perhaps serve it until its annihilation. I will endeavour to 
learn to what point he intends to lead us, and I am send- 
ing M. to London for that purpose. He has been 

intimately connected with Pitt, and they have often had 
political conversations respecting the French Government. • 



THE QUEEN AND WILLIAM PITT 335 

I will get him to make him speak out, at least so far as such 
a man can speak out." 

Some time afterwards the Queen told me that her secret 
envoy was returned from London, and that all he had been 
able to wring from Pitt, whom he found alarmingly reserved, 
was that he would not suffer the French monarchy to perish ; 
that to suffer the revolutionary spirit to erect an organised 
republic in France would be a great error, affecting the 
tranquillity of Europe. " Whenever," said she, " Pitt ex- 
pressed himself upon the necessity of supporting monarchy 
in France, he maintained the most profound silence upon 
what concerns the monarch. The result of these conversa- 
tions is anything but encouraging; but, even as to that 
monarchy which he wishes to save, will he have means and 
strength to save it if he suffers us to fall?" 

The death of the Emperor Leopold took place on the 
I St of March 1792. When the news of this event reached 
the Tuileries the Queen was gone out. Upon her return I 
put the letter containing it into her hands. She exclaimed 
that the Emperor had been poisoned ; that she had remarked 
and preserved a newspaper, in which, in an article upon 
the sitting of the Jacobins, at the time when the Emperor 
Leopold declared for the coalition, it was said, speaking of 
him, that a pie-crust would settle that matter. At this 
period Barnave obtained the Queen's consent that he 
should read all the letters she should write. He was 
fearful of private correspondences that might hamper the 
plan marked out for her; he mistrusted her Majesty's 
sincerity on this point ; and the diversity of counsels, and 
the necessity of yielding, on the one hand, to some of the 
views of the constitutionalists, and on the other, to those of 
the French Princes, and even of foreign Courts, were unfor- 
tunately the circumstances which most rapidly impelled the 
Court towards its ruin. 



336 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

However, the emigrants showed great apprehensions of 
the consequences which might follow in the interior from a 
connection with the constitutionalists, whom they described 
as a party existing only in idea, and totally without means 
of repairing their errors. The Jacobins were preferred to 
them, because, said they, there would be no treaty to be 
made with any one at the moment of extricating the King 
and his family from the abyss in which they were plunged. 



Annex to Chapter XIX 

Madame Campan refers in the preceding chapter to " secret 
measures " and " expenditure." Bertrand de Molleville, in 
the second volume of his Memoirs^ thus explains this 
systematic and extensive mode of bribery. 

Tfje Education of Public Opinion. 

M. de Laporte, to whom I had some time previously communi- 
cated my opinion on the subject of the tribunes, or galleries, told me 
that in the course of eight or nine months the King had been induced 
to spend more than two millions five hundred thousand livres upon the 
tribunes alone ; and that they had, all along, been for the Jacobins ; 
that the persons to whom the operation had been entrusted were 
strongly suspected of having diverted a considerable part of the money, 
perhaps the whole of it, to their own purposes ; but that this inconveni- 
ence was unavoidable in an expenditure of that sort, which, from its 
nature, was not susceptible of any control or check whatever ; and 
that this consideration had determined the King to discontinue it. 

I will not insist, as a certain fact, that the two chief agents in this 

service (MM. T and S ) did really apply the fund committed 

to them to their own use, although it was a matter of public notoriety 
that since their being entrusted with it one of them made purchases to 
the extent of from twelve to fifteen hundred thousand livres, and the 



THE COST OF VICTORY 337 

other to the extent of from seven to eight hundred thousand livres ; 
but I have no hesitation in asserting that they can rebut the reproach 
of signal knavery only by proving that they managed the operation 
with a want of skill and a degree of negligence almost equally culpable ; 
for nothing was more easy than to secure the tribunes by paying them. 
I had made the experiment once only during my administration, but 
then I was completely successful ; it was on the day on which I was 
to make, in the Assembly, my full reply to the denunciations .which 
had been made against me. I was informed two days beforehand by 
my spies that the secret committee of the Jacobins had determined on 
that day to augment the number of their hirelings in the tribunes, to 
ensure my being hooted ; I immediately sent for one of the victors of 
the Bastille, to whom I had before the Revolution rendered some im- 
portant services, who was entirely devoted to me, and who was a man 
of great weight in the Faubourg Saint Antoine. Him I directed to 
select from among the working men of the faubourg two hundred 
staunch and sturdy men on whom he could rely, and to take them 
next day to the Assembly, at six o'clock in the morning, in order that 
they might be the first there before the opening of the chamber, and 
so fill the front places in the tribunes at the two ends of the chamber ; 
and to give them no other order than merely to applaud or hoot ac- 
cording to a signal which was agreed on. 

This manoeuvre was as successful as I could wish ; my speech was 
repeatedly interrupted by applause, which was doubled when I ceased 
speaking ; the Jacobins were thunderstruck at this and could not at all 
understand it. A quarter of an hour afterwards I was still in the 
Assembly, as well as all the ministers who had made it their duty to 
attend me on the emergency in question, when the Abbe Fauchet rose 
to notice a fact which he declared to be of great importance. "I 
have this moment," said he, "received a letter informing me that a 
considerable proportion of the citizens in the tribunes have been paid 
to applaud the Minister of Marine." 

Although this was true enough, my unaltered countenance and the 
reputation of the Abbe Fauchet, who was known to be an unblushing 
Uar, caused his denunciation to be ridiculed ; and it was considered a 
calumny the more stupid inasmuch as it was nothing unusual to hear 
my speeches applauded by the tribunes. True, I had always taken 
care to introduce into them some of those phrases which the people 
never failed to applaud mechanically, when they were uttered with a 
certain emphasis, without troubling themselves to examine the sense 
in which they were used. This victory, gained in the tribunes over 

22 



338 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

the Jacobins, cost me no more than two hundred and seventy Hvres in 
assignats, because a considerable number of my champions, out of 
regard for their leader, would receive nothing more from him than a 
glass of brandy. 

I gave the King all these particulars in my reply to his Majesty's 
latter notes, and I again entreated him to permit me to make a second ■ 
experiment upon the tribunes for one single week only, upon a plan I 
which I annexed to my letter, and the expense of which did not exceed 
eight hundred livres per diem. This plan consisted in filling the front 
rows of the two tribunes with two hundred and sixty-two trusty fellows, 
whose pay was fixed at the following rates : — 

Liv. per diem. 
\sf. To a leader, who alone was in the secret . . 50 

2dly. To a sub-leader, chosen by the former . . 25 

"^dly. To ten assistants, selected by the leader and sub- 
leader, having no knowledge of each other, and 
each deputed to recruit twenty-five men, and 
take them daily to the Assembly, ten livres a- 
piece ; total . . . . . 100 

/^tJily. To two hundred and fifty men, each fifty sous a 

day; total ..... 625 

Total . , . 800 livres. 

The leader and sub-leader were to be placed, one in the middle of the 
front row of one tribune, and the other in the same situation in the other 
tribune ; each of them was known only to the five assistants whom he 
had under his orders in the tribune in which he took his seat ; the sub- 
leader received his directions by a signal concerted between themselves 
alone ; they had a second signal for the purpose of passing the order 
to the adjutants, each of whom again transmitted it to his twenty- 
five men by a third signal. All of them, with the exception of the 
leader and sub-leader, were to be engaged in the name of Petion, for 
the support of the constitution against the aristocrats and republicans. 
Each assistant was to pay his own recruits, and was to receive the 
funds from the leader or the sub-leader, in proportion to the number 
of men he brought with him. 

The leader alone was to correspond with a friend of a captain of 
the King's constitutional guard, named Piquet, a man of courage, and 
entirely devoted to his Majesty's service. This captain was to receive 



PURCHASED APPLAUSE 339 

from me daily the funds necessary for the expenditure of the day follow- 
ing, with directions for the conduct of the tribunes according to what 
had passed on the day preceding ; he was to communicate the whole 
to his friend, who, in his turn, was to ti-ansmit to the leader of the 
operation. By means of these various subdivisions this manoeuvre 
might get wind by treachery or otherwise without any serious incon- 
venience resulting from it, because it cut off the possibility of all 
ultimate discovery, and prevented inquiries from being directed to me ; 
nothing more was necessary than to remove any one of the inter- 
mediaries. Besides, in order so far as possible to watch the fidelity of 
the agents of this enterprise, and in some measure to keep a check 
upon the expense, I had agreed with Buob, z.jttge de la paix, that he 
should daily send five of his runners, whose salary I was to pay him, 
into each of the tribunes to see what was going forward there, especially 
in the front rows ; to calculate as exactly as they could the number of 
persons shouting or applauding, and give him an account accordingly. 
We had not neglected to apprise the assistants that this inspection was 
regularly made by agents of Petion. 

The King returned me this plan after reflecting upon it for four- 
and-twenty hours, and authorised me to try it in the course of the 
following week ; this was the result : — The first and second days our 
people contented themselves with silencing all marks of disapprobation 
and applause under pretence of hearing better, and that was one great 
point gained. On the third day, they began slightly to applaud con- 
stitutional motions and opinions, and continued to prevent contrary 
motions and opinions from being heard. On the fourth day, the same 
line of conduct was continued, only the applauses were warmer, and 
longer persevered in. The Assembly could not make it out ; several 
of the members looked towards the tribunes frequently and with atten- 
tion, and made themselves easy on seeing them filled with individuals 
whose appearance and dress were as usual. On the fifth day, the 
marks of applause became stronger, and they began to murmur a little 
against anti-constitutional motions and remarks. At this the Assembly 
appeared somewhat disconcerted ; but one of the assistants, on being 
interrogated by a deputy, replying that he was for the constitution and 
for Petion, it was supposed that the disapprobation which had been 
heard was the effect of some mistake. On the sixth day, the sounds 
of approbation and disapprobation were still conducted in the same 
way, but with a degree of violence considerable enough to give offence 
to the Assembly; a motion was made against the tribunes, who repelled 
:. it by violent clamours, insults, and threats. Some of the men em- 



340 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

ployed carried their audacity so far as to raise their sticks, as if to 
strike the deputies who were near them, and repeated, over and over 
again, that the Assembly consisted of a pack of beggars, who ought to 
be knocked on the head. The President, no doubt thinking that it 
was not quite prudent to wait till the majority of those who filled 
the tribunes should declare themselves of that opinion, broke up the 
sitting. 

As the members of the Assembly quitted the hall, several of the 
deputies accosted a considerable number of individuals coming down 
from the tribunes, and, by dint of questions and cajolery, drew from 
them that they were employed by Petion. They immediately went to 
complain to him on the subject, under a conviction that he had been 
deceived in the choice of his men and would dismiss them. Petion, 
who as yet knew nothing of what had been going forward in the 
Assembly, swore truly that he had no hand in it. He insisted that it 
was a manoeuvre of his enemies, and promised to leave no stone un- 
turned to find out its authors. I was informed that in the evening 
several of his emissaries had been all over the faubourgs, and had ques- 
tioned a great many working men ; but, fortunately, all these inquiries 
ended in nothing. 

The letter which I addressed to the King every morning informed 
him of the orders I had issued for the next day with regard to the 
management of the tribunes ; and as he had always some confidential 
person at the Assembly, in order that he might be accurately informed 
of what was going forward there, he was enabled to judge with what 
success the directions I gave were executed ; and consequently his 
Majesty in almost all his answers to the letters of that week observed : 
" The tribunes go on well — better and better — admirable. " But the 
scene of violence on Saturday gave him some uneasiness. On the 
following day* when I made my appearance at the levee, their Majesties 
and Madame Elizabeth looked at me in a most gracious manner. After 
mass the King, passing close by me, said without turning, and low 
enough to be heard by nobody but myself — "Very well, only too 
rapidly. I will write to you." In fact, in the letter which the King 
returned to me the same day, he observed: "That the experimem 
had succeeded beyond his hopes, but that it would be dangerous, 
especially to myself, to pursue it. That this resource ought to be 
reserved for a time of need, and that he would apprise me when that 
time arrived. " 



CHAPTER XX 

Fresh libel by Madame de Lamotte — The Queen refuses to purchase 
the manuscript — The King buys it — The Queen performs her 
Easter devotions secretly in 1792 — She dares not confide in 
General Dumouriez — Barnave's last advice — Insults offered to the 
royal family by the mob — The King's dejection — 20th of June 
— The King's kindness to Madame Campan — Iron closet — 
Louis XVI. entrusts a portfolio to Madame Campan — Im- 
portance of the documents it contained — Procedure of M. de La 
Fayette — Why it was unsuccessful — An assassin conceals himself 
in the Queen's apartments. 

In the beginning of the year 1792 a worthy priest requested 
a private interview with me. He had learned the existence 
of a new hbel by Madame de Lamotte. He told me that 
the people who came from London to get it printed in Paris 
only desired gain, and that they were ready to deliver the 
manuscript to him for a thousand louis, if he could find any 
friend of the Queen disposed to make that sacrifice for her 
peace; that he had thought of me, and if her Majesty 
would give him the twenty-four thousand francs, he would 
hand the manuscript to me. 

I communicated this proposal to the Queen, who rejected 
it, and desired me to answer that at the time when she had 
power to punish the hawkers of these libels she deemed 
them so atrocious and incredible that she despised them 
too much to stop them ; that if she were imprudent and 
weak enough to buy a single one of them, the Jacobins 
might possibly discover the circumstance through their 



k 



342 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

espionage; that were this Hbel bought up, it would be 
printed nevertheless, and would be much more dangerous 
when they apprised the public of the means she had used 
to suppress it. 

Baron d'Aubier, gentleman-in-ordinary to the King, and 
my particular friend, had a good memory and a clear way 
of communicating the substance of the debates and decrees 
of the National Assembly. I went daily to the Queen's 
apartments to repeat all this to the King, who used to say, 
on seeing me, "Ah! here's the Postilion par Calais" — a 
newspaper of the time. 

M. d'Aubier one day said to me, " The Assembly has 
been much occupied with an information laid by the work- 
men of the Sevres manufactory. They brought to the 
President's office a bundle of pamphlets which they said 
were the life of Marie Antoinette. The director of the 
manufactory was ordered up to the bar, and declared he 
had received orders to burn the printed sheets in question 
in the furnaces used for baking his china." 

While I was relating this business to the Queen the 
King coloured and held his head down over his plate. 
The Queen said to him, " Do you know anything about this. 
Sire?" The King made no answer. Madame Elizabeth 
requested him to explain what it meant. Louis was still 
silent. I withdrew hastily. A few minutes afterwards the 
Queen came to my room and informed me that the King, out 
of regard for her, had purchased the whole edition struck off 
from the manuscript which I had mentioned to her ; and 
that M. de Laporte had not been able to devise any more 
secret way of destroying the work than that of having it 
burnt at Sevres among two hundred workmen, one hundred 
and eighty of whom must, in all probability, be Jacobins ! 
She told me she had concealed her vexation from the King ; 
that he was in consternation, and that she could say nothing, 



BURNING A LIBEL 343 

since his good intentions and his affection for her had been 
the cause of the mistake.^ 

Some time afterwards the Assembly received a denun- 
ciation against M. de Montmorin. The ex-minister was 
accused of having neglected forty despatches from M. 
Genet, the charge d'affaires from France in Russia, not 
having even unsealed them, because M. Genet acted on 
constitutional principles. M. de Montmorin appeared at 

1 M. de Laporte had by order of the King bought up the whole edition 
of the Memoirs of the notorious Madame de Lamotte against the Queen. 
Instead of destroying them immediately, he shut them up in one of the 
cfosets in his house. The alarming and rapid growth of the rebellion, the 
arrogance of the crowd of brigands, who in great measure composed the 
populace of Paris, and the fresh excesses daily resulting from it, rendered 
the intendant of the civil list apprehensive that some mob might break into 
his house, carry off these Memoirs, and spread them among the public. 
In order to prevent this he gave orders to have the Memoirs burnt with 
every necessary precaution ; and the clerk who received the order entrusted 
the execution of it to a man named Riston, a dangerous intriguer, formerly 
an advocate of Nancy, who had a twelvemonth before escaped the gallows 
by favour of the new principles and the patriotism of the new tribunals, 
although convicted of forging the great seal, and fabricating decrees of the 
council. This Riston, finding himself entrusted with a commission which 
concerned her Majesty, and the mystery attending which bespoke some- 
thing of importance, was less anxious to execute it faithfully than to make 
a parade of this mark of confidence. On the 30th of May, at ten in the 
morning, he had the sheets carried to the porcelain manufactory at Sevres, 
in a cart which he himself accompanied, and made a large fire of them 
before all the workmen, who were expressly forbidden to approach it. 
All these precautions, and the suspicions to which they gave rise, under 
such critical circumstances, gave so much publicity to this affair that it was 
denounced to the Assembly that very night. Brissot, and the whole 
Jacobin party, with equal effrontery and vehemence, insisted that the papers 
thus secretly burnt could be no other than the registers and documents of 
the correspondence of the Austrian committee. M. de Laporte was 
ordered to the bar, and there gave the most precise account of the circum- 
stances. Riston was also called up, and confirmed M. de Laporte' s de- 
position. But these explanations, however satisfactory, did not calm the 
violent ferment raised in the Assembly by this affair. — Memoirs of Berirand 
de Molleville. 



344 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

the bar to answer this accusation. Whatever distress I 
might feel in obeying the order I had received from the 
King to go and give him an account of the sitting, I thought 
I ought not to fail in doing so. But instead of giving my 
brother his family name, I merely said your Majesty's chargi 
d'affaires at St. Petersburg. 

The King did me the favour to say that he noticed a 
reserve in my account of which he approved. The Queen 
condescended to add a few obliging remarks to those of the 
King. However, my office of journalist gave me in this 
instance so much pain that I took an opportunity, when the 
King was expressing his satisfaction to me at the manner 
in which I gave him this daily account, to tell him that its 
merits belonged wholly to M. d'Aubier ; and I ventured to 
request the King to suffer that excellent man to give him 
an account of the sittings himself I assured the King 
that if he would permit it, that gentleman might proceed 
to the Queen's apartments through mine unseen ; the King 
consented to the arrangement. Thenceforward M. d'Aubier 
gave the King repeated proofs of zeal and attachment. 

The Cure of Saint Eustache ceased to be the Queen's 
confessor when he took the constitutional oath. I do not 
remember the name of the ecclesiastic who succeeded him ; 
I only know that he was conducted into her apartments 
with the greatest mystery. Their Majesties did not per- 
form their Easter devotions in pubHc, because they could 
neither declare for the constitutional clergy, nor act so as 
to show that they were against them. 

The Queen did perform her Easter devotions in 1792 ; 
but she went to the chapel attended only by myself She 
desired me beforehand to request one of my relations, who 
was her chaplain, to celebrate a mass for her at five o'clock 
in the morning. It was still dark ; she gave me her arm, 
and I lighted her with a taper, I left her alone at the . 



THE QUEEN AND DUMOURIEZ 345 

chapel door. She did not return to her room until the 
dawn of day. 

Dangers increased daily. The Assembly were strength- 
ened in the eyes of the people by the hostilities of the 
foreign armies and the army of the Princes. The com- 
munication with the latter party became more active ; the 
Queen wrote almost every day. M. de Goguelat possessed 
her confidence for all correspondence with the foreign 
parties, and I was obliged to have him in my apartments ; 
the Queen asked for him very frequently, and at times 
which she could not previously appoint. 

All parties were exerting themselves either to ruin or to 
save the King. One day I found the Queen extremely 
agitated ; she told me she no longer knew where she was ; 
that the leaders of the Jacobins offered themselves to her 
through the medium of Dumouriezj or that Dumouriez, 
abandoning the Jacobins, had come and offered himself to 
her; that she had granted him an audience; that when 
alone with her, he had thrown himself at her feet, and told 
her that he had drawn the bofinet rouge over his head to 
the very ears; but that he neither was nor could be a 
Jacobin ; that the Revolution had been suffered to extend 
even to that rabble of destroyers who, thinking of nothing 
but pillage, were ripe for anything, and might furnish the 
Assembly with a formidable army, ready to undermine the 
remains of a throne already but too much shaken. Whilst 
speaking with the utmost ardour he seized the Queen's 
hand and kissed it with transport, exclaiming, '■^ Suffer your- 
self to he savedP The Queen told me that the protesta- 
tions of a traitor were not to be relied on ; that the whole 
of his conduct was so well known, that undoubtedly the 
wisest course was not to trust to it ;^ that moreover, the 

1 The sincerity of General Dumouriez cannot be doubted in this in- 
stance. The second volume of his Memoirs shows how unjust the mis- 



346 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Princes particularly recommended that no confidence 
should be placed in any proposition emanating from within 
the kingdom; that the force without became imposing; 
and that it was better to rely upon their success, and upon 
the protection due from Heaven to a sovereign so virtuous 
as Louis XVI. and to so just a cause. 

The constitutionalists, on their part, saw that there had 
been nothing more than a pretence of listening to them. 
Barnave's last advice was as to the means of continuing, a 
few weeks longer, the constitutional guard, which had been 
denounced to the Assembly, and was to be disbanded. 
The denunciation against the constitutional guard affected 
only its staffs and the Due de Brissac. Barnave wrote to 
the Queen that the staff of the guard was already attacked ; 
that the Assembly was about to pass a decree to reduce it ; 
and he entreated her to prevail on the King, the very 
instant the decree should appear, to form the staff afresh of 
persons whose names he sent her. Barnave said that all 
who were set down in it passed for decided Jacobins, but 
were not so in fact ; that they, as well as himself, were in 
despair at seeing the monarchical government attacked; 
that they had learned to dissemble their sentiments, and 
that it would be at least a fortnight before the Assembly 
could know them well, and certainly before it could succeed 
in making them unpopular ; that it would be necessary to 
take advantage of that short space of time to get away from 
Paris, immediately after their nomination. The Queen was 
of opinion that she ought not to yield to this advice. The 
Due de Brissac was sent to Orleans, and the guard was 
disbanded. 

trust and reproaches of the Queen were. By rejecting his services, Marie 
Antoinette deprived herself of her only remaining support. He who saved 
France in the defiles of Argonne would perhaps have saved France before 
the 20th of June had he obtained the full confidence of Louis XVI. and 
the Queen. — Note by the Editor. 



THE FATE OF BARNAVE 347 

Barnave, seeing that the Queen did not follow his 
counsel in anything, and convinced that she placed all her 
reliance on assistance from abroad, determined to quit 
Paris. He obtained a last audience. " Your misfortunes, 
Madame," said he, "and those which I anticipate for 
France, determined me to sacrifice myself to serve you. I 
see, however, that my advice does not agree with the views 
of your Majesties. I augur but little advantage from the 
plan you are induced to pursue — you are too remote from 
your succours; you will be lost before they reach you. 
Most ardently do I wish I may be mistaken in so lament- 
able a prediction ; but I am sure to pay with my head for 
the interest your misfortunes have raised in me, and the 
services I have sought to render you. I request, for my 
sole reward, the honour of kissing your hand." The 
Queen, her eyes suffused with tears, granted him that 
favour, and remained impressed with a favourable idea of 
his sentiments. Madame Elizabeth participated in this 
opinion, and the two Princesses frequently spoke of Bar- 
nave. The Queen also received M. Duport several times, 
but with les^ mystery. Her connection with the constitu- 
tional deputies transpired. Alexandre de Lameth was the 
only one of the three who survived the vengeance of the 
Jacobins.! 

1 Barnave was arrested at Grenoble. He remained in prison in that 
town fifteen months, and his friends began to hope that he would be for- 
gotten, when an order arrived that he should be removed to Paris. At 
first he was imprisoned in the Abbaye, but transferred to the Conciergerie, 
and almost immediately taken before the revolutionary tribunal. He 
appeared there with wonderful firmness, summed up the services he had 
rendered to the cause of liberty with his usual eloquence, and made such 
an impression upon the, numerous auditors that, although accustomed to 
behold only conspirators worthy of death in all those who appeared before 
the tribunal, they themselves considered his acquittal certain. The decree 
of death was read amidst the deepest silence ; but Barnave's firmness was 
immovable. When he left the court, he cast upon the judges, the jurors, 



348 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

The national guard, which succeeded the King's guard, 
having occupied the gates of the Tuileries, all who came to 
see the Queen were insulted with impunity. Menacing 
cries were uttered aloud even in the Tuileries ; they called 
for the destruction of the throne, and the murder of the 
sovereign; the grossest insults were offered by the very 
lowest of the mob. 

About this time the King fell into a despondent state, 
which amounted almost to physical helplessness. He 
passed ten successive days without uttering a single word, 
even in the bosom of his family ; except, indeed, when 
playing at backgammon after dinner with Madame Elizabeth. 
The Queen roused him from this state, so fatal at a critical 
period, by throwing herself at his feet, urging every alarming 
idea, and employing every affectionate expression. She 
represented also what he owed to his family ; and told him 
that if they were doomed to fall they ought to fall honour- 
ably, and not wait to be smothered upon the floor of their 
apartment. 

About the 15th of June 1792 the King refused his 
sanction to the two decrees ordaining the deportation of 
priests and the formation of a camp of twenty thousand 
men under the walls of Paris. He himself wished to 
sanction them, and said that the general insurrection only 
waited for a pretence to burst forth. The Queen insisted 
upon the veto^ and reproached herself bitterly when this last 

and the public looks expressive of contempt and indignation. He was led 
to his fate with the respected Duport du Tertre, one of the last ministers 
of Louis XVI. When he had ascended the scaffold, Barnave stamped^ 
raised his eyes to heaven, and said — ' ' This, then, is the reward of all that 
I have done for liberty !" He fell on the 29th of October 1793, in the 
thirty-second year of his age ; his bust was placed in the Grenoble 
Museum. The Consular Government placed his statue next to that of 
Vergniaud, on the great staircase of the palace of the Senate. — Biographic 
de Bruxelles. 



THE TREE OF LIBERTY 349 

act of the constitutional authority had occasioned the day 
of the 20th of June. 

A few days previously above twenty thousand men had 
gone to the Commune to announce that, on the 20th, they 
would plant the tree of liberty at the door of the National 
Assembly, and present a petition to the King respecting 
the veto which he had placed upon the decree for the 
deportation of the priests. This dreadful army crossed the 
garden of the Tuileries, and marched under the Queen's 
windows ; it consisted of people who called themselves 
the citizens of the Faubourgs Saint Antoine and Saint 
Marceau. Clothed in filthy rags, they bore a most terrifying 
appearance, and even infected the air. People asked each 
other where such an army could come from ; nothing so 
disgusting had ever before appeared in Paris. 

On the 20th of June this mob thronged about the 
Tuileries in still greater numbers, armed with pikes, 
hatchets, and murderous instruments of all kinds, decorated 
with ribbons of the national colours, shouting, " The nation 
for ever ! Down with the veto /" The King was without 
guards. Some of these desperadoes rushed up to his 
apartment ; the door was about to be forced in, when the 
King commanded that it should be opened. Messieurs de 
Bougainville, d'Hervilly, de Parois, d'Aubier, Acloque, 
Gentil, and other courageous men who were in the apart- 
ment of M. de Septeuil, the King's first valet de chambre^ 
instantly ran to his Majesty's apartment. M. de Bougain- 
ville, seeing the torrent furiously advancing, cried out, 
"Put the King in the recess of the window, and place 
benches before him," Six royalist grenadiers of the 
battalion of the Filles Saint Thomas made their way by an 
inner staircase, and ranged themselves before the benches. 
The order given by M. de Bougainville saved the King 
from the blades of the assassins, among whom was a Pole 



350 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

named Lazousky, who was to strike the first blow. The 
King's brave defenders said, "Sire, fear nothing." The 
King's reply is well known — "Put your hand upon my 
heart, and you will perceive whether I am afraid." M. 
Vanot, commandant of battalion, warded oif a blow aimed 
by a wretch against the King; a grenadier of the Filles 
Saint Thomas parried a sword-thrust made in the same 
direction. Madame Elizabeth ran to her brother's apart- 
ments ; when she reached the door she heard loud threats 
of death against the Queen : they called for the head of 
the Austrian. "Ah ! let them think I am the Queen," she 
said to those around her, "that she may have time to 
escape." 

The Queen could not join the King ; she was in the 
council chamber, where she had been placed behind the 
great table to protect her, as much as possible, against the 
approach of the barbarians. Preserving a noble and be- 
coming demeanour in this dreadful situation, she held the 
Dauphin before her, seated upon the table. Madame was 
at her side ; the Princesse de Lamballe, the Princesse de 
Tarente, Madame de la Roche- Aymon, Madame de Tourzel, 
and Madame de Mackau, surrounded her. She had fixed 
a tri-coloured cockade, which one of the national guard had 
given her, upon her head. The poor little Dauphin was, like 
the King, shrouded in an enormous red cap.^ The horde 

1 One of the circumstances of the 20th of June which most vexed the 
King's friends being that of his wearing the bonnet rouge nearly three 
hours, I ventured to ask him for some explanation of a fact so strikingly 
in contrast with the extraordinary intrepidity shown by his Majesty during 
that horrible day. This was his answer : " The cries of ' The 7iationfo, 
ever/' violently increasing around me, and seeming to be addressed to me, 
I replied that the nation had not a warmer friend than myself. Upon 
this an ill-looking man, making his way through the crowd, came up to 
me and said, rather roughly, ' Well, if you speak the truth, prove it by 
putting on this red cap.' '1 consent,' replied I, One or two of them 
immediately came forward and placed the cap upon my hair, for it was too- 



THE KING IN THE BONNET ROUGE 351 

passed in files before the table ; the sort of standards which 
they carried were symbols of the most atrocious barbarity. 
There was one representing a gibbet, to which a dirty doll 
was suspended J the words '''■ Marie Antoinette a la lanterne"*' 
were written beneath it. Another was a board, to which a 
bullock's heart was fastened, with ^^ .Heart of Louis XVI" 
written round it. And a third showed the horn of an ox, 
with an obscene inscription. 

One of the most furious Jacobin women who marched 
with these wretches stopped to give vent to a thousand im- 
precations against the Queen. Her Majesty asked whether 
she had ever seen her. She replied that she had not. 
Whether she had done her any personal wrong? Her 
answer was the same ; but she added, " It is you who have 
caused the misery of the nation." "You have been told 
so," answered the Queen; "you are deceived. As the 
wife of the King of France, and mother of the Dauphin, I 
am a Frenchwoman; I shall never see my own country 
again — I can be happy or unhappy only in France ; I was 
happy when you loved me." The fury began to weep, 
asked her pardon, and said, "It was because I did not 
know you ; I see that you are good." 

Santerre, the monarch of the faubourgs, made his sub- 
jects file off as quickly as he could ; and it was thought at 
the time that he was ignorant of the object of this insurrec- 

small for my head. I was convinced, I knew not why, that his intention 
was merely to place the cap upon my head for a moment, and then to take 
it off again ; and I was so completely taken up with what was passing 
before me that I did not feel whether the cap did or did not remain upon 
my hair. I was so little aware of it that when I returned to my room I 
knew only from being told so that it was still there. I was very much 
surprised to find it upon my head, and was the more vexed at it because I 
might have taken it off immediately without the smallest difficulty. But I 
am satisfied that if I had hesitated to consent to its being placed upon my 
head the drunken fellow who offered it to me would have thrust his pike 
into my stomach."— Memoirs of Bertrand de Molleville. 



352 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

tion, which was the murder of the royal family. However, 
it was eight o'clock in the evening before the Palace was 
completely cleared. Twelve deputies, impelled by attach- 
ment to the King's person, ranged themselves near him at 
the commencement of the insurrection ; but the deputation 
from the Assembly did not reach the Tuileries until six in 
the evening ; all the doors of the apartments were broken. 
The Queen pointed out to the deputies the state of the 
King's Palace, and the disgraceful manner in which his 
asylum had been violated under the very eyes of the 
Assembly : she saw that Merlin de Thionville was so much 
affected as to shed tears while she spoke. " You weep, M. 
Merlin," said she to him, "at seeing the King and his 
family so cruelly treated by a people whom he always 
wished to make happy." " True, Madame," replied Merlin ; 
" I weep for the misfortunes of a beautiful and feeling 
woman, the mother of a family ; but do not mistake, not 
one of my tears falls for either King or Queen j I hate 
kings and queens : it is my religion." The Queen could 
not appreciate this madness, and saw all that was to be 
apprehended by persons who evinced it. 

All hope was gone, and nothing was thought of but 
succour from abroad. The Queen appealed to her family 
and the King's brothers ; her letters probably became more 
pressing, and expressed apprehensions upon the tardiness 
of relief, lier Majesty read me one to herself from the 
Archduchess Christina, Gouvernante of the Low Countries : 
she reproached the Queen for some of her expressions, and 
told her that those out of France were at least as much 
alarmed as herself at the King's situation and her own; 
but that the manner of attempting to assist her might 
either save her or endanger her safety ; and that the mem- 
bers of the coalition were bound to act prudently, entrusted 
as they were with interests so dear to them. 



THE king's previsions 353 

The 14th of July 1792, fixed by the constitution as the 
anniversary of the independence of the nation, drew near. 
The King and Queen were compelled to make their appear- 
ance on the occasion; aware that the plot of the 20th of 
June had their assassination for its object, they had no doubt 
but that their death was determined on for the day of this 
national festival. The Queen was recommended, in order 
to give the King's friends time to defend him if the attack 
should be made, to guard him against the first stroke of a 
dagger by making him wear a breastplate. I was directed 
to get one made in my apartments : it was composed of 
fifteen folds of Italian taffety, and formed into an under 
waistcoat and a wide belt. This breastplate was tried ; it 
resisted all thrusts of the dagger, and several balls were 
turned aside by it. When it was completed the difficulty 
was to let the King try it on without running the risk of 
being surprised. I wore the immense heavy waistcoat as 
an under-petticoat for three days without being able to find 
a favourable moment. At length the King found an oppor- 
tunity one morning to pull off his coat in the Queen's 
chamber and try on the breastplate. 

The Queen was in bed j the King pulled me gently by 
the gown, and drew me as far as he could from the Queen's 
bed, and said to me, in a very low tone of voice : " It is to 
satisfy her that I submit to this inconvenience : they will 
not assassinate me ; their scheme is changed ; they will put 
me to death another way." The Queen heard the King 
whispering to me, and when he was gone out she asked me 
what he had said. I hesitated to answer ; she insisted that 
I should, saying that nothing must be concealed from her, 
and that she was resigned upon every point. When she 
was informed of the King's remark she told me she had 
guessed it, that he had long since observed to her that all 
which was going forward in France was an imitation of the 

23 



354 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

revolution in England in the time of Charles I., and that 
he was incessantly reading the history of that unfortunate 
monarch in order that he might act better than Charles had 
done at a similar crisis. "I begin to be fearful of the 
King's being brought to trial," continued the Queen; "as 
to me, I am a foreigner ; they will assassinate me. What 
will become of my poor children ? " These sad ejacula- 
tions were followed by a torrent of tears. I wished to give 
her an antispasmodic; she refused it, saying that only 
happy women could feel nervous ; that the cruel situation 
to which she was reduced rendered these remedies useless. 
In fact the Queen, who during her happier days was fre- 
quently attacked by hysterical disorders, enjoyed more 
uniform health when all the faculties of her soul were called 
forth to support her physical strength. 

I had prepared a corset for her, for the same purpose as 
the King's under-waistcoat, without her knowledge ; but she 
would not make use of it ; all my entreaties, all my tears, 
were in vain. " If the factions assassinate me," she replied, 
" it will be a fortunate event for me ; they will deliver me 
from a most painful existence." A few days after the King 
had tried on his breastplate I met him on a back staircase. 
I drew back to let him pass. He stopped and took my 
hand ; I wished to kiss his ; he would not suffer it, but 
drew me towards him by the hand, and kissed both my 
cheeks without saying a single word. 

The fear of another attack upon the Tuileries occasioned 
scrupulous search among the King's papers : I burnt almost 
all those belonging to the Queen. She put her family 
letters, a great deal of correspondence which she thought it 
necessary to preserve for the history of the era of the 
Revolution, and particularly Barnave's letters and her 
answers, of which she had copies, into a portfolio, which 
she entrusted to M. de J . That gentleman was un- 



THE KING'S HIDING PLACE 



355 



able to save this deposit, and it was burnt. The Queen 
left a few papers in her secretaire. Among them were 
instructions to Madame de Tourzel, respecting the dis- 
positions of her children and the characters and abilities of 
the sub-governesses under that lady's orders. This paper, 
which the Queen drew up at the time of Madame de 
Tourzel's appointment, with several letters from Maria 
Theresa, filled with the best advice and instructions, was 
printed after the loth of August by order of the Assembly 
in the collection of papers found in the secretaires of the 
King and Queen. 

Her Majesty had still, without reckoning the income of 
the month, one hundred and forty thousand francs in gold. 
She was desirous of depositing the whole of it with me ; 
but I advised her to retain fifteen hundred louis, as a sum 
of rather considerable amount might be suddenly necessary 
for her. The King had an immense quantity of papers, 
and unfortunately conceived the idea of privately making, 
with the assistance of a locksmith who had worked with 
him above ten years, a place of concealment in an inner 
corridor of his apartments. The place of concealment, 
but for the man's information, would have been long un- 
discovered.^ The wall in which it was made was painted 
to imitate large stones, and the opening was entirely con- 
cealed among the brown grooves which formed the shaded 
part of these painted stones. But even before this locksmith 
had denounced what was afterwards called the iron closet 
to the Assembly, the Queen was aware that he had talked 
of it to some of his friends ; and that this man, in whom 
the King from long habit placed too much confidence, was 
a Jacobin. She warned the King of it, and prevailed on 
him to fill a very large portfolio with all the papers he was 
most interested in preserving, and entrust it to me. She 
See p. 89. . 



356 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

entreated him in my presence to leave nothing in this 
closet ; and the King, in order to quiet her, told her that 
he had left nothing there. I would have taken the portfolio 
and carried it to my apartment, but it was too heavy for 
me to lift. The King said he would carry it himself; I 
went before to open the doors for him. When he placed 
the portfolio in my inner closet he merely said, "The 
Queen will tell you what it contains." Upon my return to 
the Queen I put the question to her, deeming, from what 
the King had said, that it was necessary I should know. 
"They are," the Queen answered me, "such documents as 
would be most dangerous to the King should they go so far 
as to proceed to a trial against him. But what he wishes 
me to tell you is, that the portfolio contains a prods-verbal 
of a cabinet council, in which the King gave his opinion 
against the war. He had it signed by all the ministers, and, 
in case of a trial, he trusts that this document will be very 
useful to him." I asked the Queen to whom she thought 
I ought to commit the portfolio. " To whom you please," 
answered she ; ^^you alone are answerable for it. Do not 
quit the Palace even during your vacation months : there 
may be circumstances under which it would be very desir- 
able that we should be able to have it instantly." 

At this period M. de La Fayette, who had probably 
given up the idea of estabHshing a republic in France 
similar to that of the United States, and was desirous to 
support the first constitution which he had sworn to defend, 
quitted his army and came to the Assembly for the purpose 
of supporting by his presence and by an energetic speech a 
petition signed by twenty thousand citizens against the late 
violation of the residence of the King and his family. The 
General found the constitutional party powerless, and saw 
that he himself had lost his popularity. The Assembly 
disapproved of the step he had taken ; the King, for whom 



PROPOSED COALITION WITH LA FAYETTE 357 

it was taken, showed no satisfaction at it, and he saw him- 
self compelled to return to his army as quickly as he could. 
He thought he could rely on the national guard ; but on the 
day of his arrival those officers who were in the King's 
interest inquired of his Majesty whether they were to 
forward the views of General de La Fayette by joining him 
in such measures as he should pursue during his stay at 
Paris. The King enjoined them not to do so. From this 
answer M. de La Fayette perceived that he was abandoned 
by the remainder of his party in the Paris guard. 

On his arrival a plan was presented to the Queen, in 
which it was proposed by a junction between La Fayette's 
army and the King's party to rescue the royal family and 
convey them to Rouen. I did not learn the particulars of 
this plan; the Queen only said to me upon the subject 
that M. de La Fayette was offered to them as a resource ; 
but that it would be better for them to perish than to owe 
their safety to the man who had done them the most mis- 
chief, or to place themselves under the necessity of treating 
with him. 

I passed the whole month of July without going to bed ; 
I was fearful of some attack by night. There was one plot 
against the Queen's life which has never been made known. 
I was alone by her bedside at one o'clock in the morning j 
we heard somebody walking softly down the corridor, whicL 
passes along the whole line of her apartments, and which 
was then locked at each end. I went out to fetch the valet 
de chambre ; he entered the corridor, and the Queen and 
myself soon heard the noise of two men fighting. The 
unfortunate Princess held me locked in her arms, and said 
to me, " What a situation ! insults by day and assassins by 
night ! " The valet de chambre cried out to her from the 
corridor, "Madame, it is a wretch that I know; I have 
him!" "Let him go," said the Queen.; "open the door 



358 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

to him ; he came to murder me ; the Jacobins would carry 
him about in triumph to-morrow." The man was a servant 
of the King's toilette, who had taken the key of the corridor 
out of his Majesty's pocket after he was in bed, no doubt 
with the intention of committing the crime suspected. The 
valet de chambre, who was a very strong man, held him by 
the wrists, and thrust him out at the door. The wretch did 
not speak a word. The valet de chambre said, in answer to 
the Queen, who spoke to him gratefully of the danger to 
which he had exposed himself, that he feared nothing ; and 
that he had always a pair of excellent pistols about him for 
no other purpose than to defend her Majesty. The next . 
day M. de Septeuil had all the locks of the King's inner 
apartments changed. I did the same by those of the 
Queen. 

We were every moment . told that the Faubourg Saint 
Antoine was preparing to march against the Palace. At 
four o'clock one morning towards the latter end of July a 
person came to give me information to that eifect. I in- 
stantly sent off two men, on whom I could rely, with orders 
to proceed to the usual places for assembling, and to come 
back speedily and give me an account of the state of the 
city. We knew that at least an hour must elapse before the 
populace of the faubourgs assembled on the site of the 
•Bastile could reach the Tuileries. It seemed to me suffi- 
cient for the Queen's safety that all about her should be 
awakened. I went softly into her room ; she was asleep ; 

I did not awaken her. I found General de W in the 

great closet; he told me the meeting was,' for this once, 
dispersing. The General had endeavoured to please the 
populace by the same means as M. de La Fayette had 
employed. He saluted the lowest poissarde^ and lowered 
his hat down to his very stirrup. But the populace, who 
had been flattered for three years, required far different . 



DEVOTION OF THE QUEEN 359 

homage to its power, and the poor man was unnoticed. 
The King had been awakened, and so had Madame EHza- 
beth, who had gone to him. The Queen, yielding to the 
weight of her griefs, slept till nine o'clock on that day, which 
was very unusual with her. The King had already been to 
know whether she was awake : I told him what I had done, 
and the care I had taken not to disturb her. He thanked 
me, and said, "I was awake, and so was the whole Palace ; 
she ran no risk. I am very glad to see her take a little 
rest — Alas! her griefs double mine!" What was my 
chagrin when upon awaking and learning what had passed 
the Queen burst into tears from regret at not having been 
called, and began to upbraid me, on whose friendship she 
ought to have been able to rely, for having served her so ill 
under such circumstances ! In vain did I reiterate that it had 
been only a false alarm, and that she required to have her 
strength recruited. " It is not diminished," said she : " mis- 
fortune gives us additional strength. Elizabeth was with 
the King, and I was asleep — I who am determined to 
perish by his side ! I am his wife ; I will not suifer him 
to incur the smallest risk without my sharing it." 



I 



CHAPTER XXI 

Madame Campan's communications with M. Bertrand de Molleville for 
the King's service — Hope of a speedy deHverance — The Queen's 
reflections upon the character of Louis XVI. — Insults — Inquiry 
set on foot by the Princesse de Lamballe respecting the persons 
of the Queen's household — The loth of August — Curious par- 
ticulars — Battle — Scenes of carnage — The royal family at the 
Feuillans. 

During July the correspondence of M. Bertrand de Molle- 
ville with the King and Queen was most active. M. de 
Marsilly, formerly a lieutenant of the Cent-Suisses of the 
guard, was the bearer of the letters.^ He came to me the 
first time with a note from the Queen directed to M. Ber- 
trand himself. In this note the Queen said : " Address 
yourself with full confidence to Madame Campan; the 
conduct of her brother in Russia has not at all influenced 
her sentiments ; she is wholly devoted to us j and if, here- 

1 I received by night only the King's answer, written with his own 
hand, in the margin of my letter. I always sent him back with the day's 
letter that to which he had replied the day before, so that my letters and 
his answers, of which I contented myself with taking notes only, never 
remained with me twenty-four hours. I proposed this arrangement to his 
Majesty to remove all uneasiness from his mind ; my letters were generally 
delivered to the King or the Queen by M. de Marsilly, captain of the 
King's Guard, whose attachment and fidelity were known to their Majesties. 
I also sometimes employed M. Bernard de Marigny, who had left Brest 
for the purpose of sharing with his Majesty's faithful servants the dangers 
which threatened the King. — Memoirs of Bertrand de Molleville, vol. ii. 

p. 12. 



DELUSIVE HOPES 361 

after, you should have anything to say to us verbally, you 
may rely entirely upon her devotion and discretion." 

The mobs which gathered almost nightly in the fau- 
bourgs alarmed the Queen's friends; they entreated her 
not to sleep in her room on the ground-floor of the Tuileries. 
She removed to the first floor, to a room which was between 
the King's apartments and those of the Dauphin. Being 
awake always from daybreak, she ordered that neither the 
shutters nor the window blinds should be closed, that her 
long sleepless nights might be the less weary. About the 
middle of one of these nights, when the moon was shining 
into her bed-chamber, she gazed at it, and told me that in 
a month she should not see that moon unless freed from 
her chains, and beholding the King at liberty. She then 
imparted to me all that was concurring to deliver them ; but 
said that the opinions of their intimate advisers were alarm- 
ingly at variance ; that some vouched for complete success, 
while others pointed out insurmountable dangers. She 
added that she possessed the itinerary of the march of the 
Princes and the King of Prussia : that on such a day they 
would be at Verdun, on another day at such a place, that 

Lille was about to be besieged, but that M. de J , 

whose prudence and intelligence the King, as well as hfer- 
self, highly valued, alarmed them much respecting the suc- 
cess of that siege, and made them apprehensive that, even 
were the commandant devoted to them, the civil authority, 
which by the constitution gave great power to the mayors 
of towns, would overrule the military commandant. She 
was also very uneasy as to what would take place at Paris 
during the interval, and spoke to me of the King's want of 
energy, but always in terms expressive of her veneration 
for his virtues and her attachment to himself. " The King," 
said she, " is not a coward ; he possesses abundance of 
passive courage, but he is overwhelmed by an awkward 



362 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

shyness, a mistrust of himself, which proceeds from his 
education as much as from his disposition. He is afraid to 
command, and, above all things, dreads speaking to assem- 
bled numbers. He lived like a child, and always ill at 
ease under the eyes of Louis XV., until the age of twenty-| 
one. This constraint confirmed his timidity.^ Circum-I 
stanced as we are, a few well-delivered words addressed to 
the Parisians, who are devoted to him, would multiply the 
strength of our party a hundredfold : he will not utter them. 
What can we expect from those addresses to the people 
which he has been advised to post up? Nothing but fresh* 
outrages. As for myself, I could do anything, and would! 

1 "I am convinced," says Bertrand de MoUeville, "" that if Louis XVI. 
had received a different education, and his abilities had been cultivated 
and exercised, he would have show^n as much talent as those princes who 
have had the reputation of possessing the most. We saw him daily, and | 
with the greatest ease, read a letter, a newspaper, or a memorial, and at ' 
the same time listen to the relation of some affair, and yet understand both 
perfectly well. The King's constant practice was to come to the council 
with the evening paper, and the letters or memorials which had been pre- 
sented to him during the day, in his hand. He spent the first half-hour 
of each sitting in reading them, handed the memorials which required 
attention to the proper ministers, lit the others and the newspaper at the 
taper next to him, and threw them on the floor. All this time the ministers 
reported the business of their respective departments, and the King under- 
stood them so well that in an affair of some delicacy, reported while he 
was reading by M. Cahier de Gerville, and adjourned for a week for con- 
sideration, his'Majesty astonished us upon the second report of the same 
affair by the exactness with which he fixed upon the omission of a fact 
extremely important to the decision, and which M. Cahier de Gerville no 
longer remembered. None of us could cope with the King in point of 
memory. His judgment was not less sound, not only in business, but in 
the composition of proclamations, or of letters, or speeches addressed to th" 
Assembly. All the important documents of that nature which appeared 
during my administration were submitted to the king's examination in par- 
ticular, after having been discussed and frequently settled at the committee 
of the ministers, and there are few of them in which his Majesty did not 
make some valuable corrections. — Memoirs of Bertrand de MoUeville, 
vol. i. 



FRENZY OF THE PEOPLE 2>^z 

appear on horseback if necessary. But if I were really to 
begin to act, that would be furnishing arms to the King's 
enemies ; the cry against the Austrian, and against the 
sway of a female, would become general in France ; and, 
moreover, by showing myself, I should render the King a 
mere nothing. A queen who is not regent ought, under 
these circumstances, to remain passive and prepare to die." 
The garden of the Tuileries was full of maddened men, 
who insulted all who seemed to side with the court. The 
Life of Marie Antoinette was cried under the Queen's 
windows, infamous plates were annexed to the book, the 
hawkers showed them to the passers-by. On all sides 
were heard the jubilant outcries of a people in a state of 
delirium almost as frightful as the explosion of their rage. 
The Queen and her children were unable to breathe the 
open air any longer. It was determined that the garden 
of the Tuileries should be closed : as soon as this step 
was taken the Assembly decreed that the whole length of 
the Terrace des Feuillans belonged to it, and fixed the 
boundary between what was called the national ground and 
the Coblentz ground by a tri-coloured ribbon stretched from 
one end of the terrace to the other. All good citizens 
were ordered, by notices affixed to it, not to go down 
into the garden, under pain of being treated in the same 
manner as Foulon and Berthier. A young man who did 
not observe this written order went down into the garden ; 
furious outcries, threats of la lanterne, and the crowd of 
people which collected upon the terrace warned him of his 
imprudence, and the danger which he ran. He immediately 
pulled off his shoes, took out his handkerchief, and wiped 
the dust from their soles. The people cried out, " Bravo / 
the good citizen for ever/" He was carried off in triumph. 
The shutting up of the Tuileries did not enable the Queen 
and her children to walk in the garden.. The people on 



364 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

the terrace sent forth dreadful shouts, and she was twice 
compelled to return to her apartments. 

In the early part of August many zealous persons offered 
the King money ; he refused considerable sums, being un- 
willing to injure the fortunes of individuals. M. de la 
Ferte, intendant of the menus plaisirs, brought me a 
thousand louis, requesting me to lay them at the feet of 
the Queen. He thought she could not have too much 
money at so perilous a time, and that every good French- 
man should hasten to place all his ready money in her 
hands. She refused this sum, and others of much greater 
amount which were offered to her.^ However, a few days 
afterwards, she told me she would accept M. de la Ferte's 
twenty-four thousand francs, because they would make up a 
sum which the King had to expend. She therefore directed 
me to go and receive those twenty-four thousand francs, 
to add them to the one hundred thousand francs she had 
placed in my hands, and to change the whole into assignats 
to increase their amount. Her orders were executed, and 
the assignats were delivered to the King. The Queen 
informed me that Madame Elizabeth had found a well- 
meaning man who had engaged to gain over Petion by the 
bribe of a large sum of money, and that deputy would, by 
a preconcerted signal, inform the King of the success of 
the project. His Majesty soon had an opportunity of 
seeing Petion, and on the Queen asking him before me if 
he was satisfied with him, the King repHed, "Neither more 
nor less satisfied than usual; he did not make the con- 
certed signal, and I believe I have been cheated." The 

^ M. Augui^, my[^brother-in-law, receiver-general of the finances, offered 
her, through his wife, a portfolio containing one hundred thousand crowns 
in paper money. On this occasion the Queen said the most affecting 
things to my sister, expressive of her happiness at having contributed to 
the fortunes of such faithful subjects as herself and her husband, but de- 
clined her offer. — Madame Campan. 



INTERVIEW WITH PRINCESSE DE LAMBALLE 365 

Queen then condescended to explain the whole of the 
enigma to me. "Petion," said she, "was, while talking to 
the King, to have kept his finger fixed upon his right eye 
for at least two seconds." " He did not even put his hand 
up to his chin," said the King; "after all, it is but so 
much money stolen : the thief will not boast of it, and the 
affair will remain a secret. Let us talk of something else." 
He turned to me and said, " Your father was an intimate 
friend of Mandat, who now commands the national guard ; 
describe him to me; what ought I to expect from him?" 
I answered that he was one of his Majesty's most faithful 
subjects, but that with a great deal of loyalty he possessed 
very little sense, and that he was involved in the constitu- 
tional vortex. "I understand," said the King; "he is a 
man who would defend my palace and my person, because 
that is enjoined by the constitution which he has sworn to 
support, but who would fight against the party in favour of 
sovereign authority : it is well to know this with certainty." 
On the next day the Princesse de Lamballe sent for me 
very early in the morning. I found her on a sofa facing 
a window that looked upon the Pont Royal. She then 
occupied that apartment of the Pavilion of Flora which 
was on a level with that of the Queen. She desired me 
to sit down by her. Her Highness had a writing-desk 
upon her knees. *'You have had many enemies," said 
she; "attempts have been made to deprive you of the 
Queen's favour ; they have been far from successful. Do 
you know that even I myself, not being so well acquainted 
with you as the Queen, was rendered suspicious of you ; 
and that upon the arrival of the Court at the Tuileries I 
gave you a companion to be a spy upon you ; and that I 
had another belonging to the police placed at your door ! 
I was assured that you received five or six of the most 
virulent deputies of the iiers-etat ; but it was that wardrobe 



366 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

woman whose rooms were above you. In short," said the 
Princess, "persons of integrity have nothing to fear from 
the evil-disposed when they belong to so upright a prince 
as the King. As to the Queen, she knows you, and has 
loved you ever since she came into France. You shall 
judge of the King's opinion of you : it was yesterday 
evening decided in the family circle that at a time when 
the Tuileries is likely to be attacked it was necessary to 
have the most faithful account of the opinions and conduct 
of all the individuals composing the Queen's service. The 
King takes the same precaution on his part respecting all 
who are about him. He said there was with him a person 
of great integrity, to whom he would commit this inquiry ; 
and that, with regard to the Queen's household, you must 
be spoken to ; that he had long studied your character, and 
that he esteemed your veracity." 

The Princess had a list of the names of all who belonged 
to the Queen's chamber on her desk. She asked me for 
information respecting each individual. I was fortunate in 
having none but the most favourable information to give. 
I had to speak of my avowed enemy in the Queen's cham- 
ber ; of her who most wished that I should be responsible 
for my brother's political opinions. The Princess, as the 
head of the chamber, could not be ignorant of this circum- 
stance ; but as the female in question, who idolised the 
King and Queen, would not have hesitated to sacrifice her 
life in order to save theirs, and as possibly her attachment 
to them, united to considerable narrowness of intellect and 
a limited education, contributed to her jealousy of me, I 
spoke of her in the highest terms. 

The Princess wrote as I dictated, and occasionally 
looked at me with astonishment. When I had done I 
entreated her to write in the margin that the lady alluded 
to was my declared enemy. She embraced me, saying, 



THE queen's household 367 

" Ah ! do not write it ! we should not record an unhappy 
circumstance which ought to be forgotten." We came to 
a man of genius who was much attached to the Queen, and 
I described him as a man born solely to contradict, showing 
himself an aristocrat with democrats, and a democrat among 
aristocrats ; but still a man of probity, and w.ell disposed to 
his sovereign. The Princess said she knew many persons 
of that disposition, and that she was delighted I had nothing 
to say against this man, because she herself had placed 
him about the Queen. 

The whole of her Majesty's chamber, which consisted 
entirely of persons of fidelity, gave throughout all the 
dreadful convulsions of the Revolution proofs of the greatest 
prudence and self-devotion. The same cannot be said of 
the antechambers. With the exception of three or four, all 
the servants of that class were outrageous Jacobins ; and I 
saw on those occasions the necessity of composing the 
private household of princes of persons completely separ- 
ated from the class of the people. 

The situation of the royal family was so unbearable dur- 
ing the months which immediately preceded the loth of 
August that the Queen longed for the crisis whatever might 
be its issue. She frequently said that a long confinement 
in a tower by the seaside would seem to her less intolerable 
than those feuds in which the weakness of her party daily 
threatened an inevitable catastrophe.^ 

1 A few days before the ioth of August the squabbles between the 
royalists and the Jacobins, and between the Jacobins and the constitu- 
tionalists, increased in warmth ; among the latter those men who defended 
the principles they professed with the greatest talent, courage, and con- 
stancy were at the same time the most exposed to danger. Montjoie 
says : ' ' The question of dethronement was discussed with a degree of 
frenzy in the Assembly. Such of the deputies as voted against it were 
abused, ill-treated, and surrounded by assassins. They had a battle to 
fight at every step they took ; and at length they did not 'dare to sleep in 
their own houses. Of this number were Regnault de Beaucaron, Frou- 



368 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Not only were their Majesties prevented from breathing 
the open air, but they were also insulted at the very foot of 
the altar. The Sunday before the last day of the monarchy, 
while the royal family went through the gallery to the 
chapel, half the soldiers of the national guard exclaimed, 
" Long live the King ! " and the other half, " No ; no King ! 
down with the veto ! " and on that day at vespers the 
choristers preconcerted to use loud and threatening em- « 
phasis when chanting the words " Deposuit potentes de sede^^% 
in the Magnificat. Incensed at such an irreverent proceed- 
ing, the royalists in their turn thrice exclaimed, " Et regi- 
nam^^ after the " Domine salvum fac regem" The tumult 
during the whole time of divine service was excessive. 

At length the terrible night of the loth of August 
1792 arrived. On the preceding evening Petion went to 
the Assembly and informed it that preparations were mak- 
ing for an insurrection on the following day ; that the tocsin 
would sound at midnight ; and that he feared he had not 
sufficient means for resisting the attack which was about to 
take place. Upon this information the Assembly passed to 
the order of the day. Petion, however, gave an order for 
repelling force by force.^ M. Mandat was armed with this 
order ; and finding his fidelity to the King's person sup- 
ported by what he considered the law of the State, he con- 
ducted himself in all his operations with the greatest energy. 
On the evfening of the 9th I was present at the King's 
supper. While his Majesty was giving me various orders 
we heard a great noise at the door of the apartment. I 

diere, Girardin, and Vaublanc. Girardin complained of having been 
struck in one of the lobbies of the Assembly. A voice cried out to him, 
' Say where you were struck.' — ' Where f replied Girardin, ' what a ques- 
tion ! Behind. Do assassins ever strike otherwise ?' " 

1 Petion was the Mayor of Paris, and Mandat on this day was com- 
mandant of the national guard. Mandat was assassinated that night. — 
Thiers, vol. i. p. 260. 



THE LAST STRUGGLE 369 

went to see what was the cause of it, and found the tw^o 
sentinels fighting. One said, speaking of the King, that he 
was hearty in the cause of the constitution, and would 
defend it at the peril of his life ; the other maintained that 
he was an encumbrance to the only constitution suitable to 
a free people. They were almost ready to cut one another's 
throats. I returned with a countenance which betrayed 
my emotion. The King desired to know what was going 
forward at his door ; I could not conceal it from him. The 
Queen said she was not at all surprised at it, and that more 
than half the guard belonged to the Jacobin party. 

The tocsin sounded at midnight. The Swiss were drawn 
up like walls ; and in the midst of their soldier-like silence, 
which formed a striking contrast with the perpetual din of 

the town guard, the King informed M. de J , an officer 

of the staff, of the plan of defence laid down by General 
Viomenil. M. de J said to me, after this private con- 
ference, " Put your jewels and money into your pockets ; 
our dangers are unavoidable; the means of defence are 
nil; safety might be obtained by some degree of energy 
in the King, but that is the only virtue in which he is 
deficient." 

An hour after midnight the Queen and Madame Eliza- 
beth said they would lie down on a sofa in a room in the 
entresols^ the windows of which commanded the courtyard 
of the Tuileries. 

The Queen told me the King had just refused to put on 
his quilted un der- waistcoat ; that he had consented to 
wear it on the 14th of July because he was merely going to 
a ceremony where the blade of an assassin was to be appre- 
hended, but that on a day on which his party might fight 
against the revolutionists he thought there was something 
cowardly in preserving his life by such means. 

During this time Madame Elizabeth disengaged herseU 
24 



370 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

from some of her clothing which encumbered her in order 
to He down on the sofa : she took a cornelian pin out of 
her cape, and before she laid it down on the table she 
showed it to me, and desired me to read a motto engraved 
upon it round a stalk of lilies. The words were, " Oblivion 
of injuries — pardon for offences.^' " I much fear," added 
that virtuous Princess, " this maxim has but little influence 
among our enemies ; but it ought not to be less dear to us 
on that account."^ 

The Queen desired me to sit down by her; the two 
Princesses could not sleep ; they were conversing mourn- 
fully upon their situation when a musket was discharged in 
the courtyard. They both quitted the sofa, saying, " There 
is the first shot, unfortunately it will not be the last ; let us 
go up to the King." The Queen desired me to follow her ; 
several of her women went with me. 

At four o'clock the Queen came out of the King's 
chamber and told us she had no longer any hope ; that M. 
Mandat, who had gone to the Hotel de Ville to receive 
further orders, had just been assassinated, and that the 
people were at that time carrying his head about the streets. 
Day came. The King, the Queen, Madame Elizabeth, 
Madame, and the Dauphin went down to pass through the 
ranks of the sections of the national guard; the cry of 
" Vive le Roi ! " was heard from a few places. I was at a 
window on the garden side ; I saw some of the gunners 

1 The exalted piety of Madame Elizabeth gave to all she said and did a 
noble character, descriptive of that of her soul. On the day on which this 
worthy descendant of Saint Louis was sacrificed, the executioner, in tying 
her hands behind her, raised up one of the ends of her handkerchief. Ma- 
dame Ehzabeth, with calmness, and in a voice which seemed not to belong 
to earth, said to him, "In the name of modesty, cover my bosom." I 
learned this from Madame de Serilly, who was condemned the same day 
as the Princess, but who obtained a respite at the moment of the execu- 
tion, Madame de Montmprin, her relation, declaring that her cousin was 
enceinte. — Madame Campan. 



THE KINGS WANT OF ENERGY 371 

quit their posts, go up to the King, and thrust their fists in 
his face, insulting him by the most brutal language. 
Messieurs de Salvert and de Bridges drove them off in a 
spirited manner. The King was as pale as a corpse. The 
royal family came in again. The Queen told me that all 
was lost ; that the King had shown no energy ; and that 
this sort of review had done more harm than good. 

I was in the billiard-room with my companions; we 
placed ourselves upon some high benches. I then saw 
M. d'Hervilly with a drawn sword in his hand, ordering the 
usher to open the door to the French noblesse. Two hun- 
dred persons entered the room nearest to that in which the 
family were ; others drew up in two lines in the preceding 
rooms. I saw a few people belonging to the Court, many 
others whose features were unknown to me, and a few who 
figured technically without right among what was called the 
noblesse^ but whose self-devotion ennobled them at once. 
They were all so badly armed that even in that situation 
the indomitable French liveliness indulged in jests. M. de 
Saint Souplet, one of the King's equerries, and a page, 
carried on their shoulders instead of muskets the tongs 
belonging to the King's antechamber, which they had 
broken and divided between them. Another page, who 
had a pocket-pistol in his hand, stuck the end of it against 
the back of the person who stood before him, and who 
begged he would be good enough to rest it elsewhere. A 
sword and a pair of pistols were the only arms of those 
who had had the precaution to provide themselves with 
arms at all. Meanwhile, the numerous bands from the 
faubourgs, armed with pikes and cutlasses, filled the Car- 
rousel and the streets adjacent to the Tuileries. The san- 
guinary Marseillais were at their head, with cannon pointed 
against the Chateau. In this emergency the King's 
council sent M. Dejoly, the Minister of Justice, to the 



372 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Assembly to request they would send the King a deputa- 
tion which might serve as a safeguard to the executive 
power. His ruin was resolved on; they passed to the 
order of the day. At eight o'clock the department repaired 
to the Chateau. The procureur- syndic, seeing that the 
guard within was ready to join the assailants, went into 
the King's closet and requested to speak to him in private. 
The King received him in his chamber; the Queen was 
with him. There M. Roederer told him that the King, all 
his family, and the people about them would inevitably 
perish unless his Majesty immediately determined to go to 
the National Assembly. The Queen at first opposed this 
advice, but the procureur-syndic told her that she rendered 
herself responsible for the deaths of the King, her children, 
and all who were in the Palace. She no longer objected. 
The King then consented to go to the Assembly. As he 
set out he said to the minister and persons who surrounded 
him, " Come, gentlemen, there is nothing more to be done 
here."^ The Queen said to me as she left the King's 
chamber, " Wait in my apartments ; I will come to you, or 

^ "The King hesitated, the Queen manifested the highest dissatisfac- 
tion. ' What ! ' said she, ' are we alone ; is there nobody who can act?' 
' Yes, Madame, alone ; action is useless — resistance is impossible. ' One 
of the members of the department, M. Gerdrot, insisted on the prompt 
execution of the proposed measure. ' Silence, sir, ' said the Queen to him ; 
' silence ; you are the only person who ought to be silent here ; when the 
mischief is done, those who did it should not pretend to wish to remedy 
it.'" .... 

' ' The King remained mute ; nobody spoke. It was reserved for me 
to give the last piece of advice. I had the firmness to say, ' Let us go, 
and not deliberate ; honour commands it, the good of the State requires 
it. Let us go to the National Assembly ; this step ought to have been 
taken long ago.' — ' Let us go,' said the King, raising his right hand ; ' let 
us start ; let us give this last mark of self-devotion, since it is necessary. ' 
The Queen was persuaded. Her first anxiety was for the King, the second 
for her son ; the King had none. ' M. Roederer — gentlemen, ' said the 
Queen, ' you answer for the person of the King ; you answer for that of 



THE ROYAL FAMILY LEAVE THE TUILERIES 373 

I will send for you to go I know not whither." She took 
with her only the Princesse de Lamballe and Madame de 
Tourzel. The Princesse de Tarente and Madame de la 
Roche- Aymon were inconsolable at being left at the Tuil- 
eries; they, and all who belonged to the chamber, went 
down into the Queen's apartments. 

We saw the royal family pass between two hues formed 
by the Swiss grenadiers and those of the battahons of the 
Petits-Peres and the Filles Saint Thomas. They were so 
pressed upon by the crowd that during that short passage 
the Queen was robbed of her watch and purse. A man of 
great height and horrible appearance, one of such as were 
to be seen at the head of all the insurrections, drew near 
the Dauphin, whom the Queen was leading by the hand, 
and took him up in his arms. The Queen uttered a scream 
of terror, and was ready to faint. The man said to her, 
"Don't be frightened, I will do him no harm;" and he 
gave him back to her at the entrance of the chamber. 

I leave to history all the details of that too memorable 
day, confining myself to recalling a few of the frightful 
scenes acted in the interior of the Tuileries after the King 
had quitted the Palace. 

The assailants did not know that the King and his 
family had betaken themselves to the Assembly ; and 
those who defended the Palace from the side of the courts 
were equally ignorant of it. It is supposed that if they had 
been aware of the fact the siege would never have taken 
place.^ 

my son.' — 'Madame,' replied M. Roederer, ' we pledge ourselves to die 
at your side; that is all we can engage for.'" — Montjoie's History of 
Marie Antoinette. 

1 In reading of the events of the loth August 1792 the reader must re- 
member that there was hardly any armed force to resist the mob. The 
regiments that had shown signs of being loyal to the King had been re- 
moved from Paris by the Assembly. The Swiss had been deprived of their 



374 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

The Marseillais began by driving from their posts 
several Swiss, who yielded without resistance ; a few of the 
assailants fired upon them ; some of the Swiss officers see- 
ing their men fall, and perhaps thinking the King was still 
at the Tuileries, gave the word to a whole battalion to fire. 
The aggressors were thrown into disorder, and the Car- 
rousel was cleared in a moment ; but they soon returned, 
spurred on by rage and revenge. The Swiss were but 
eight hundred strong; they fell back into the interior of 
the Chateau ; some of the doors were battered in by the 
guns, others broken through with hatchets; the populace 
rushed from all quarters into the interior of the Palace; 
almost all the Swiss were massacred; the nobles, flying 
through the gallery which leads to the Louvre, were either 
stabbed or shot, and the bodies thrown out of the windows. 

M. Pallas and M. de Marchais, ushers of the King's 
chamber, were killed in defending the door of the council 
chamber ; many others of the King's servants fell victims 
to their fidelity. I mention these two persons in particular 

own artillery, and the Court had sent one of their battalions into Normandy 
at a time when there was an idea of taking refuge there. The national 
guard were either disloyal or disheartened, and the gunners, especially, of 
that force at the Tuileries sympathised with the mob. Thus the King had 
about 800 or 900 Swiss and little more than one battalion of the national 
guard. Mandat, one of the six heads of the legions of the national guard, 
to whose turn the command fell on that day, was true to his duty, but was 
sent for to the H6tel de Ville and assassinated. Still the small force, even 
after the departure of the King, would have probably beaten off the mob 
had not the King given the fatal order to the Swiss to cease firing. — See 
Thiers's Revolution Frajigaise, vol, i. chap, xi. Bonaparte's opinion of 
the mob may be judged by his remarks on the 20th June 1792, when, dis- 
gusted at seeing the King appear with the red cap on his head, he ex- 
claimed, "Che coglione ! Why have they let in all that rabble? why 
don't they sweep off four or five hundred of them with the cannon? the 
rest would then set off." — Bourrienne, vol. i. p. 13 (Bentley, London, 
1836). Bonaparte carried out his own plan against a far stronger force 
of assailants on the Jour des Sections, 4th October 1795. 



MASSACRE OF THE SWISS 375 

because, with their hats pulled over their brows and their 
swords in their hands, they exclaimed, as they defended 
themselves with unavailing courage, " We will not survive 
— this is our post ; our duty is to die at it." M. Diet be- 
haved in the same manner at the door of the Queen's bed- 
chamber; he experienced the same fate. The Princesse 
de Tarente had fortunately opened the door of the apart- 
ments j otherwise, the dreadful band seeing several women 
collected in the Queen's salon would have fancied she was 
among us, and would have immediately massacred us had 
we resisted them. We were, indeed, all about to perish, 
when a man with a long beard came up, exclaiming, in the 
name of Petion, ''''Spare the women; don't dishonour the 
nation .-'" A particular circumstance placed me in greater 
danger than the others. In my confusion I imagined, a 
moment before the assailants entered the Queen's apart- 
ments, that my sister was not among the group of women 
collected there ; and I went up into an entresol^ where I 
supposed she had taken refuge, to induce her to come 
down, fancying it safer that we should not be separated. I 
did not find her in the room in question ; I saw there only 
our two femmes de chambre and one of the Queen's two 
heyducs, a man of great height and military aspect. I saw 
that he was pale, and sitting on a bed. I cried out to him, 
" Fly ! the footmen and our people are already safe." " I 
cannot," said the man to me ; "I am dying of fear." As 
he spoke I heard a number of men rushing hastily up the 
staircase ; they threw themselves upon him, and I saw him 
assassinated. 

I ran towards the staircase, followed by our women. 
The murderers left the heyduc to come to me. The women 
threw themselves at their feet, and held their sabres. The 
narrowness of the staircase impeded the assassins ; but I 
had already felt a horrid hand thrust into my back to seize 



376 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

me by my clothes, when some one called out from the 
bottom of the staircase, " What are you doing above there ? 
We donH kill women y I was on my knees ; my execu- 
tioner quitted his hold of me, and said, " Get up, you Jade; 
the nation pardons you."" 

The brutality of these words did not prevent my sud- 
denly experiencing an indescribable feeling which partook 
almost equally of the love of life and the idea that I was 
going to see my son, and all that was dear to me, again. 
A moment before I had thought less of death than of the 
pain which the steel, suspended over my head, would occa- 
sion me. Death is seldom seen so close without striking 
his blow. I heard every syllable uttered by the assassins, 
just as if I had been calm. 

Five or six men seized me and my companions, and 
having made us get up on benches placed before the 
windows, ordered us to call out, " The nation for ever /" 

I passed over several corpses ; I recognised that of the 
old Vicomte de Broves, to whom the Queen had sent me 
at the beginning of the night to desire him and another old 
man in her name to go home. These brave men desired 
I would tell her Majesty that they had but too strictly 
obeyed the King's orders in all circumstances under which 
they ought to have exposed their own lives in order to pre- 
serve his; 4nd that for this once they would not obey, 
though they would cherish the recollection of the Queen's 
goodness. 

Near the grille, on the side next the bridge, the men 
who conducted me asked whither I wished to go. Upon 
my inquiring, in my turn, whether they were at liberty to 
take me wherever I might wish to go, one of them, a Mar- 
seillais, asked me, giving me at the same time a push with 
the butt end of his musket, whether I still doubted the 
power of the people? I answered "iVi?," and I mentioned 



ESCAPE OF MADAME CAMPAN 377 

the number of my brother-in-law's house. I saw my sister 
ascending the steps of the parapet of the bridge, surrounded 
by members of the national guard. I called to her, and 
she turned round. "Would you have her go with you?" 
said my guardian to me. I told him I did wish it. They 
called the people who were leading my sister to prison; 
she joined me. 

Madame de la Roche-Aymon and her daughter. Made- 
moiselle Pauline de Tourzel, Madame de Ginestoux, lady 
to the Princesse de Lamballe, the other women of the 
Queen, and the old Comte d'AfFry, were led off together to 
the Abbaye. 

Our progress from the Tuileries to my sister's house was 
most distressing. We saw several Swiss pursued and killed, 
and musket-shots were crossing each other in all directions. 
We passed under the walls of the Louvre ; they were firing 
from the parapet into the windows of the gallery, to hit the 
knights of the dagger; for thus did the populace designate 
those faithful subjects who had assembled at the Tuileries 
to defend the King. 

The brigands broke some vessels of water in the Queen's 
first antechamber ; the mixture of blood and water stained 
the skirts of our white gowns. The poissardes screamed 
after us in the streets that we were attached to the Austrian. 
Our protectors then showed some consideration for us, and 
made us go up a gateway to pull off our gowns ; but our 
petticoats being too short, and making us look like persons 
in disguise, othQx. poissardes began to bawl out that we were 
young Swiss dressed up like women. We then saw a tribe 
of female cannibals enter the street, carrying the head of 
poor Mandat. Our guards made us hastily enter a little 
public-house, called for wine, and desired us to drink with 
them. They assured the landlady that we were their sisters, 
and good patriots. Happily the Marseillais had quitted us 



378 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

to return to the Tuileries. One of the men who remained 
with us said to me in a low voice — " I am a gauze-worker 
in the faubourg. I was forced to march ; I am not for all 
this; I have not killed anybody, and have rescued you. 
You ran a great risk when we met the mad women who 
are carrying Mandat's head. These horrible women said 
yesterday at midnight, upon the site of the Bastille, that 
they must have their revenge for the 6th of October, at 
Versailles, and that they had sworn to kill the Queen and 
all the women attached to her ; the danger of the action 
saved you all." 

As I crossed the Carrousel, I saw my house in flames ; 
but as soon as the first moment of affright was over, I 
thought no more of my personal misfortunes. My ideas 
turned solely upon the dreadful situation of the Queen. 

On reaching my sister's we found all our family in 
despair, beheving they should never see us again. I could 
not remain in her house ; some of the mob, collected round 
the door, exclaimed that Marie Antoinette's confidante was 
in the house, and that they must have her head. I dis- 
guised myself, and was concealed in the house of M. Morel, 
secretary for tlie lotteries. On the morrow I was inquired 
for there, in the name of the Queen. A deputy, whose 
sentiments were known to her, took upon himself to find 
me out. 

I borrowed clothes, and went with my sister to the 
Feuillans.^ We got there at the same time with M. Thierry 
de Ville-d'Avray, the King's first valet de chambre. We 
were taken into an office, where we wrote down our names 
and places of abode, and we received tickets for admission 
into the rooms belonging to Camus, the keeper of the 
Archives, where the King was with his family. 

1 A former monastery near the Tuileries, so called from the Bernard- 
ines, one of the Cistercian orders ; later, a revolutionary club. 



THE QUEEN IN THE FEUILLANS 379 



As we entered the first room, a person who was there 
said to me, "Ah! you are a brave woman; but where is 
that Thierry, 1 that man loaded with his master's bounties?" 
"He is here," said I; "he is following me. I perceive 
that even scenes of death do not banish jealousy from among 
you." 

Having belonged to the Court from my earliest youth, 1 
was known to many persons whom I did not know. As I 
traversed a corridor above the cloisters which led to the 
cells inhabited by the unfortunate Louis XVI. and his 
family, several of the grenadiers called me by name. One 
of them said to me, " Well, the poor King is lost ! The 
Comte d'Artois would have managed it better." " Not at 
all," said another. 

The royal family occupied a small suite of apartments 
consisting of four cells, formerly belonging to the ancient 
monastery of the Feuillans. In the first were the men who 
had accompanied the King : the Prince de Poix, the Baron 
d'Aubier, M. de Saint Pardou, equerry to Madame Elizabeth, 
MM. de Goguelat, de Chamilly, and de Hue. In the 
second we found the King; he was having his hair dressed; 
he took two locks of it, and gave one to my sister and one 
to me. We ofi'ered to kiss his hand ; he opposed it, and 
embraced us without saying anything. In the third was 
the Queen, in bed, and in indescribable afiliction. We 
found her accompanied only by a stout woman, who ap- 
peared tolerably civil; she was the keeper of the apart- 
ments. She waited upon the Queen, who as yet had none 
of her own people about her. Her Majesty stretched out 
her arms to us, saying, " Come, unfortunate women; come, 
and see one still more unhappy than yourselves since she 

^ M. Thierry, who never ceased to give his sovereign proofs of un- 
alterable attachment, was one of the victims of the 2d of September. — 
Madame Campan. 



38o PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

has been the cause of all your misfortunes. We are ruined," 
continued she; "we have arrived at that point to which 
they have been leading us for three years, through all pos- 
sible outrages ; we shall fall in this dreadful revolution, and 
many others will perish after us. All have contributed to 
our downfall ; the reformers have urged it like mad people, 
and others through ambition, for the wildest Jacobin seeks 
wealth and office, and the mob is eager for plunder. There 
is not one real patriot among all this infamous horde. The 
emigrant party have their intrigues and schemes ; foreigners 
seek to profit by the dissensions of France; every one has 
a share in our misfortunes." 

The Dauphin came in with Madame and the Marquise 
de Tourzel. On seeing them the Queen said to me, "Poor 
children ! how heartrending it is, instead of handing down 
to them so fine an inheritance, to say it ends with us !" 
She afterwards conversed with me about the Tuileries and 
the persons who had fallen; she condescended also to men- 
tion the burning of my house. I looked upon that loss as 
a mischance which ought not to dwell upon her mind, and 
I told her so. She spoke of the Princesse de Tarente, 
whom she greatly loved and valued, of Madame de la 
Roche-Aymon and her daughter, of the other persons whom 
she had left at the Palace, and of the Duchesse de Luynes, 
who was to have passed the night at the Tuileries. Respect- 
ing her she said, " Hers was one of the first heads turned 
by the rage for that mischievous philosophy ; but her heart 
brought her back, and I again found a friend in her."^ I 
asked the Queen what the ambassadors from foreign 

1 During the Reign of Terror I withdrew to the Chateau de Coubertin, 
near that of Dampierre. The Duchesse de Luynes frequently came to ask 
me to tell her what the Queen had said about her at the Feuillans. She 
would say as she went away, ' ' / have often need to request you to repeat 
those words of the Queen," — Madame Campan. 



LAST WORDS TO MADAME CAMPAN 381 

powers had done under existing circumstances. She told 
me that they could do nothing ; and that the wife of the 
EngHsh ambassador had just given her a proof of the per- 
sonal interest she took in her welfare by sending her linen 
for her son. 

I informed her that, in the pillaging of my House, all my 
accounts with her had been thrown into the Carrousel, and 
that every sheet of my month's expenditure was signed by 
her, sometimes leaving four or five inches of blank paper 
above her signature, a circumstance which rendered me 
very uneasy, from an apprehension that an improper use 
might be made of those signatures. She desired me to 
demand admission to the committee of general safety, and 
to make this declaration there. I repaired thither instantly 
and found a deputy, with whose name I have never become 
acquainted. After hearing me he said that he would not re- 
ceive my deposition; that Marie Antoinette was now nothing 
more than any other Frenchwoman; and that if any of 
those detached papers bearing her signature should be 
misappHed she would have, at a future period, a right to 
lodge a complaint, and to support her declaration by the 
facts which I had just related. The Queen then regretted 
having sent me, and feared that she had, by her very 
caution, pointed out a method of fabricating forgeries 
which might be dangerous to her; then again she ex- 
claimed, "My apprehensions are as absurd as the step I 
made you take. They need nothing more for our ruin ; 
all has been told." 

She gave us details of what had taken place subsequently 
to the King's arrival at the Assembly. They are all well 
known, and I have no occasion to record them ; I will 
merely mention that she told us, though with much delicacy, 
that she was not a little hurt at the King's conduct since 
he had quitted the Tuileries; that his. habit of laying no 



382 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

restraint upon his great appetite had prompted him to eat 
as if he had been at his palace ; that those who did not 
know him as she did, did not feel the piety and the magna- 
nimity of his resignation, all which produced so bad an 
effect that deputies who were devoted to him had warned 
him of it ; but that no change could be effected. 

I still see in imagination, and shall always see, that 
narrow cell at the Feuillans, hung with green paper, that 
wretched couch whence the dethroned Queen stretched out 
her arms to us, saying that our misfortunes, of which she 
was the cause, increased her own. There, for the last time, 
I saw the tears, I heard the sobs of her whom high birth, 
natural endowments, and, above all, goodness of heart, had 
seemed to destine to adorn any throne, and be the happi- 
ness of any people ! It is impossible for those who lived 
with Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette not to be fully con- 
vinced, while doing full justice to the King's virtues, that if 
the Queen had been from the moment of her arrival in 
France the object of the care and affection of a Prince of 
decision and authority she would have only added to the 
glory of his reign. 

What affecting things I have heard the Queen say in the 
affliction caused her by the belief of part of the Court and 
the whole of the people that she did not love France! 
How did that opinion shock those who knew her heart and 
her sentiments ! Twice did I see her on the point of 
going from her apartments in the Tuileries into the gardens, 
to address the immense throng constantly assembled there 
to insult her. "Yes," exclaimed she, as she paced her 
chamber with hurried steps ; " I will say to them — French- 
men, they have had the cruelty to persuade you that I do 
not love France ! — I ! the mother of a Dauphin who will 
reign over this noble country ! — I ! whom Providence has 
seated upon the most powerful throne of Europe ! Of all 



THE queen's love FOR FRANCE 383 

the daughters of Maria Theresa am I not that one whom 
fortune has most highly favoured ? And ought I not to feel 
all these advantages? What should I find at Vienna? 
Nothing but sepulchres ! what should I lose in France ? 
Everything which can confer glory !" 

I protest I only repeat her own words ; this soundness 
of her judgment soon pointed out to her the dangers of such 
a proceeding. " I' should descend from the throne," said 
she, "merely, perhaps, to excite a momentary sympathy, 
which the factious would soon render more injurious than 
beneficial to me." 

Yes, not only did Marie Antoinette love France, but few 
women took greater pride in the courage of Frenchmen. I 
could adduce a multitude of proofs of this ; I will relate two 
traits which demonstrate the noblest enthusiasm : The 
Queen was telling me that at the coronation of the Emperor 
Francis 11., that Prince, bespeaking the admiration of a 
French general officer, who was then an emigrant, for the 
fine appearance of his troops, said to him, " There are the 
men to beat your sans culottes /" — " That remains to he seen^ 
Sire,'' instantly repHed the officer. The Queen added, " I 
don't know the name of that brave Frenchman, but I will 
learn it ; the King ought to be in possession of it." As she 
was reading the public papers a few days before the 
loth of August she observed that mention was made of 
the courage of a young man who died in defending the flag 
he carried, and shouting, " Vive la Nation I" " Ah ! the 
fine lad!" said the Queen; "what a happiness it would 
have been for us if such men had never left off crying, 
' Vivele Roif" 

In all that I have hitherto said of this most unfortunate 
of women and of Queens, those who did not live with 
her, those who knew her but partially, and especially the 
majority of foreigners, prejudiced by infamous Hbels, may 



384 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

imagine I have thought it my duty to sacrifice truth on the 
altar of gratitude. Fortunately I can invoke unexcep- 
tionable witnesses ; they will declare whether what I assert 
that I have seen and heard appears to them either untrue 
or improbable. 



CHAPTER XXII 

Petion refuses Madame Campan permission to be imprisoned in the 
Temple with the Queen — She excites the suspicions of Robespierre 
—Domiciliary visits — Madame Campan opens the portfolio she 
had received from the King — Papers in it, with the seals of State 
— Mirabeau's secret correspondence with the Court — Destroyed as 
well as the other papers — The only document preserved — It is 
delivered to M. de Malesherbes on the trial of the unfortunate 
Louis XVI. — End of the Memoirs. 

The Queen having been robbed of her purse as she was 
passing from the Tuileries to the Feuillans, requested my 
sister to lend her twenty-five louis.^ 

I spent part of the day at the Feuillans, and her Majesty 
told me she would ask Potion to let me be with her in the 
place which the Assembly should decree for her prison. I 
then returned home to prepare everything that might be 
necessary for me to accompany her. 

On the same day (nth August) at nine in the evening 
I returned to the Feuillans. I found there were orders at 
all the gates forbidding my being admitted. I claimed a 
right to enter by virtue of the first permission which had 
been given to me ; I was again refused. I was told that 
the Queen had as many people as were requisite about her. 
My sister was with her as well as one of my companions, 

^ On being interrogated the Queen declared that these five-and-twenty 
louis had been lent to her by my sister ; this formed a pretence for arrest- 
ing her and me, and led to her death.— Madame Campan. 

25 



386 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

who came out of the prisons of the Abbaye on the nth. 
I renewed my solicitations on the 12th; my tears and 
entreaties moved neither the keepers of the gates, nor 
even a deputy, to whom I addressed myself. 

I soon heard of the removal of Louis XVI. and his 
family to the Temple. I went to Petion accompanied by 
M. Valadon, for whom I had procured a place in the post- 
office, and who was devoted to me. He determined to go 
up to Petion alone ; he told him that those who requested 
to be confined could not be suspected of evil designs, and 
that no political opinion could afford a ground of objection 
to these solicitations. Seeing that the well-meaning man 
did not succeed I thought to do more in person; but 
Petion persisted in his refusal, and threatened to send me to 
La Force. Thinking to give me a kind of consolation, he 
added I might be certain that all those who were then with 
Louis XVI. and his family would not stay with them long. 
And in fact two or three days afterwards the Princesse de 
Lamballe, Madame de Tourzel, her daughter, the Queen's 
first woman,^;he first woman of the Dauphin and of Madame, 
M. de Chamilly and M. de Hue were carried off during the 
night and transferred to La Force. After the departure of 
the King and Queen for the Temple my sister was detained 
a prisoner in the apartments their Majesties had quitted for 
twenty-four hours. 

From this time I was reduced to the misery of having 
no further intelligence of my august and unfortunate mistress 
but through the medium of the newspapers or the national 
guard, who did duty at the Temple. 

The King and Queen said nothing to me at the 
Feuillans about the portfolio which had been deposited 
with me ; no doubt they expected to see me again. The 
minister Roland and the deputies composing the provisional 
government were very intent on a search for papers belong- 



THE king's portfolio 387 

ing to their Majesties. They had the whole of the Tuil- 
eries ransacked. The infamous Robespierre bethought 
himself of M. Campan, the Queen's private secretary, 
and said that his death was feigned, that he was living 
unknown in some obscure part of France, and was doubtless 
the depositary of all the important papers. " In a great 
portfolio belonging to the King there had been found a 
solitary letter from the Comte d'Artois, which, by its date, 
and the subjects of which it treated, indicated the existence 
of a continued correspondence. (This letter appeared 
among the documents used on the trial of Louis XVI.) 
A former preceptor of my son's had studied with Robes- 
pierre j the latter meeting him in the street, and knowing 
the connection which had subsisted between him and the 
family of M. Campan, required him to say, upon his honour, 
whether he was certain of the death of the latter. The 
man replied that M. Campan had died at La Briche in 
1 79 1, and that he had seen him interred in the cemetery 
of Epinay. "Well, then," resumed Robespierre, "bring 
me the certificate of his burial at twelve to-morrow ; it is a 
document for which I have pressing occasion." Upon 
hearing the deputy's demand I instantly sent for a certifi- 
cate of M. Campan's burial, and Robespierre received it at 
nine o'clock the next morning. But I considered that, in 
thinking of my father-in-law, they were coming very near 
me, the real depositary of these important papers. I passed 
days and nights in considering what I could do for the 
best under such circumstances. 

I was thus situated when the order to inform against 
those who had been denounced as suspected on the loth 
of August led to domiciliary visits. My servants were told 
that the people of the quarter in which I lived were talking 
much of the search that would be made in my house, and 
came to apprise me of it. I heard that fifty armed men 



388 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

would make themselves masters of M. Augui^'s house, 
where I then was. I had just received this intelHgence 
when M. Gougenot, the King's mattre d^hotel and receiver- 
general of the taxes, a man much attached to his sovereign, 
came into my room wrapped in a riding-cloak, under which, 
with great difficulty, he carried the King's portfolio, which 
I had entrusted to him. He threw it down at my feet, 
and said to me, " There is your deposit ; I did not receive 
it from our unfortunate King's own hands ; in delivering it 
to you I have executed my trust." After saying this he 
was about to withdraw. I stopped him, praying him to 
consult with me what I ought to do in such a trying 
emergency. He would not listen to my entreaties, or even 
hear me describe the course I intended to pursue. I told 
him my abode was about to be surrounded ; I imparted to 
him what the Queen had said to me about the contents of 
the portfolio. To all this he answered, " There it is ; 
decide_for yourself; I will have no hand in it." Upon 
that I retnained a few seconds thinking, and my conduct 
was founded upon the following reasons. I spoke aloud, 
although to myself; I walked about the room with agitated 
steps; M. Gougenot was thunderstruck. "Yes," said I, 
" when we can no longer communicate with our King and 
receive his orders, however attached we may be to him, 
we can only serve him according to the best of our own 
judgment. The Queen said to me, *This portfolio con- 
tains scarcely anything but documents of a most danger- 
ous description in the event of a trial taking place, if it 
should fall into the hands of revolutionary persons.' She 
mentioned, too, a single document which would, under the 
same circumstances, be useful. It is my duty to interpret 
her words, and consider them as orders. She meant to 
say, 'You will save such a paper, you will destroy the rest 
if they are likely to be taken- from you.' If it were not so. 



MADAME CAMPAN'S HOUSE SEARCHED 389 

was there any occasion for her to enter into any detail as 
to what the portfoUo contained? The order to keep it 
was sufficient. Probably it contains, moreover, the letters 
of that part of the family which has emigrated ; there is 
nothing which may have been foreseen or decided upon 
that can be useful now; and there can be no political 
thread which has not been cut by the events of the loth 
of August and the imprisonment of the King. My house 
is about to be surrounded, I cannot conceal anything of 
such bulk; I might then, through want of foresight, give 
up that which would cause the condemnation of the King. 
Let us open the portfolio, save the document alluded to, 
and destroy the rest." I took a knife and cut open one 
side of the portfolio. I saw a great number of envelopes 
endorsed by the King's own hand. M. Gougenot found 
there the former seals of the King,^ such as they were 
before the Assembly had changed the inscription. At this 
moment we heard a great noise ; he agreed to tie up the 
portfolio, take it again under his cloak, and go to a safe 
place to execute what I had taken upon me to determine. 
He made me swear, by all I held most sacred, that I 
would affirm, under every possibly emergency, that the 
course I was pursuing had not been dictated to me by 
anybody ; and that, whatever might be the result, I would 
take all the credit or all the blame upon myself I lifted 
up my hand and took the oath he required ; he went out. 
Half an hour afterwards a great number of armed men 
came to my house ; they placed sentinels at all the outlets ; 
they broke open secretaires and closets of which they had 

^ No doubt it was in order to have the ancient seals ready at a 
moment's notice, in case of a counter-revolution, that the Queen desired 
me not to quit the Tuileries. M. Gougenot threw the seals into the 
river, one from above the Pont Neuf, and the other from near the Pont 
Royal. — Madame Campan. 



390 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

not the keysj they searched the flower-pots and boxes; 
they examined the cellars ; and the commandant repeatedly 
said, " Look particularly for papers." In the afternoon M. 
Gougenot returned. He had still the seals of France 
about him, and he brought me a statement of all that he 
had burnt. 

The portfolio contained twenty letters from Monsieur, 
eighteen or nineteen from the Comte d'Artois, seventeen 
from Madame Adelaide, eighteen from Madame Victoire, a 
great many letters from Comte Alexandre de Lameth, and 
many from M. de Malesherbes, with documents annexed to 
them. There were also some from M. de Montmorin and 
other ex-ministers or ambassadors. Each correspondence 
had its title written in the King's own hand upon the blank 
paper which contained it. The most voluminous was that 
from Mirabeau. It was tied up wdth a scheme for an escape, 
which he thought necessary. M. Gougenot, who had 
skimmed-over these letters with more attention than the rest, 
told me they were of so interesting a nature that the King 
had no doubt kept them as documents exceedingly valuable 
for a history of his reign, and that the correspondence with 
the Princes, which was entirely relative to what was going 
forward abroad, in concert with the King, would have been 
fatal to him if it had been seized. After he had finished 
he placed in. my hands the prods-verbal, signed by all the 
ministers, to which 'the King attached so much importance, 
because he had given his opinion against the declaration of 
war ; a copy of the letter written by the King to the Princes, 
his brothers, inviting them to return to France ; an account 
of the diamonds which the Queen had sent to Brussels (these 
two documents were in my handwriting) ; and a receipt for 
four hundred thousand francs, under the hand of a celebrated 
banker. This sum was part of the eight hundred thousand 
francs which the Queen had. gradually saved during her 



DESTRUCTION OF THE KING'S PAPERS 391 

reign out of her pension of three hundred thousand francs 
per annum, and out of the one hundred thousand francs 
given by way of present on the birth of the Dauphin. 
This receipt, written on a very small piece of paper, was in 
the cover of an almanac, I agreed with M. Gougenot, who 
was obliged by his office to reside in Paris, that he should 
retain the proces-verbal of the council and the receipt for 
the four hundred thousand francs, and that we should wait 
either for orders or for the means of transmitting these 
documents to the King or Queen; and I set out for 
Versailles. 

. The strictness of the precautions taken to guard the 
illustrious prisoners was daily increased. The idea that. I 
could not inform the King of the course I had adopted of 
burning his papers, and the fear that I should not be able 
to transmit to him that which he had pointed out as 
necessary, tormented me to such a degree that it is 
wonderful my health endured the strain. 

The dreadful trial drew near. Official advocates were 
granted to the King ; the heroic virtue of M. de Malesherbes 
induced him to brave the most imminent dangers, either to 
save his master or to perish with him. I hoped also to be 
able to find some means of informing his Majesty of what I 
had thought it right to do. I sent a man, on whom I could 
rely, to Paris, to request M. Gougenot to come to me at 
Versailles : he came immediately. We agreed that he 
should see M. de Malesherbes without avaiHng himself of 
any intermediate person for that purpose. 

M. Gougenot awaited his return from the Temple at the 
door of his hotel, and made a sign that he wished to speak 
to him. A moment afterwards a servant came to introduce 
him into the magistrates' room. He imparted to M. de 
Malesherbes what I had thought it right to do with respect 
to the King's papers, and placed in his hands the j^roces- 



392 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

verbal of the council, which his Majesty had preserved in 
order to serve, if occasion required it, for a ground of his 
defence. However, that paper is not mentioned in either 
of the speeches of his advocate ; probably it was determined 
not to make use of it. 

I stop at that terrible period which is marked by the 
assassination of a King whose virtues are well known ; but 
I cannot refrain from relating what he deigned to say in my 
favour to M. de Malesherbes : " Let Madame Campan know 
that she did what I should myself have ordered her to do ; I 
thank her for it ; she is one of those whom I regret I have 
it not in my power to recompense for their fidelity to my 
person, and for their good services." I did not hear of this 
until the morning after he had suffered, and I think I should 
have sunk under my despair if this honourable testimony 
had not given me some consolation. 

****** 



Annex to Chapter XXII 

Madame Campan's narrative breaking off abruptly at the 
time of the painful end met with by her sister, we have 
supplemented it by abridged accounts of the chief incidents 
in the tragedy which overwhelmed the royal house she so 
faithfully served, taken from contemporary records and the 
best historical authorities. 

The Royal Family in the Temple. 

The Assembly having, at the instance of the Commune of Paris, 
decreed that the royal family should be immured in the Temple, they 
were removed thither from the Feuillans on the 13th of August 1792, 
in the charge of Petion, mayor of Paris, and Santerre, the com- 
mandant-general. Tvv^elve Commissioners of the general council 



DESCRIPTION OF THE TEMPLE 393 



were to keep constant watch at the Temple, which had been fortified 
by earthworks and garrisoned by detachments of the national guard, 
no person being allowed to enter without permission from the 
municipality. ^ 

The Temple, formerly the headquarters of the Knights Templars in 
Paris, consisted of two buildings — the Palace, facing the Rue de 
Temple, usually occupied by one of the Princes of the blood; 2 and 
the Tower, standing behind the Palace. ^ The Tower was a square 
building, with a round tower at each corner and a small turret on one 
side, usually called the Tourelle. In the narrative of the Duchesse 
d'Angouleme she says that the soldiers who escorted the royal prisoners 
wished to take the King alone to the Tower, and his family to the Palace 
of the Temple, but that on the way Manuel* received an order to im- 
prison them all in the Tower, where so little provision had been made 
for their reception that Madame Elizabeth slept in the kitchen. The 
royal family were accompanied by the Princesse de Lamballe, Madame 
de Tourzel and her daughter Pauline, Mesdames de Navarre, de Saint 
Brice, Thibaut, and Bazire, MM. de Hue and de Chamilly, and three 



1 See Thiers's French Revolution, translated by Frederick Shoberl, 
edit. 1854, vol. ii. p. 13. 

2 The Comte d'Artois had been the last royal resident. 

3 Clery gives a more minute description of this singular building : "The 
small tower of the Temple in which the King was then confined stood with 
its back against the great tower, without any interior communication, and 
formed a long square, flanked by two turrets. In one of these turrets there 
was a narrow staircase that led from the first floor to a gallery on the 
platform "; in the other were small rooms, answering to each story of the 
tower. The body of the building was four stories high. The first con- 
sisted of an antechamber, a dining-room, and a small room in the turret, 
where there was a library containing from twelve to fifteen hundred volumes. 
The second story was divided nearly in the same manner. The largest 
room was the Queen's bedchamber, in which the Dauphin also slept ; the 
second, which was separated from the Queen's by a small antechamber 
almost without light, was occupied by Madame Royale and Madame 
Elizabeth. The King's apartments were on the third story. He slept in 
the great room, and made a study of the turret closet. There was a 
kitchen separated from the King's chamber by a small dark room, which 
had been successively occupied by M. de Chamilly and M. de Hue. The 
fourth story was shut up ; and on the ground] floor there were kitchens 
of which no use was made." — Journal, p. 96. 

^ Procureur of the Commune. 



394 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

men- servants. 1 An order from the Commune soon removed these 
devoted attendants, and M. de Hue alone was permitted to return. 
"We all passed the day together," says Madame Royale. "My 
father taught my brother geography; my mother history, and to 
learn verses by heart ; and my aunt gave him lessons in arithmetic. 
My father fortunately found a library which amused him, and my 
mother worked tapestry. . . . We went every day to walk in the 
garden, for the sake of my brother's health, though the King was 
always insulted by the guard. On the Feast of Saint Louis Qa Ira 
was sung under the walls of the Temple. Manuel that evening brought 
my aunt a letter from her aunts at Rome.^ It was the last the family 
received from without. My father was no longer called King. He 
was treated with no kind of respect ; the officers always sat in his 
presence and never took off their hats. They deprived him of his 
sword and searched his pockets. . . . Petion sent as gaoler the 
horrible man^ who had broken open my father's door on the 20th 
June 1792, and who had been near assassinating him. This man 
never left the Tower, and was indefatigable in endeavouring to torment 
him. One time he would sing- the Carmagnole^ and a thousand 
other horrors, before us ; again, knowing that my mother disliked the 
smoke of tobacco, he would puff it in her face, as well as in that of 
my father, as they happened to pass him. He took care always to be 
in bed before we went to supper, because he knew that we must pass 
through his room. My father suffered it all with gentleness, forgiving 
the man from the bottom of his heart. My mother bore it with a 
dignity that frequently repressed his insolence."* The only occasion, 
Madame Royale adds, on which the Queen showed any impatience at 
the conduct of the officials, was when a municipal officer woke the 
Dauphin suddenly in the night to make certain that he was safe, as 
though the sight" of the peacefully sleeping child would not have been 
in itself the best assurance. 

Clery, the valet de chambre of the Dauphin, ^ having with difficulty 

1 Royal Memoirs of the French Revolution : Murray, 1823, p. 159. 

2 Mesdames Adelaide and Victoire. '^ Rocher, a saddler by trade. 
* Royal Memoirs, pp. 166-170. 

^ Clery we have seen and known, and the form and manners of that 
model of pristine faith and loyalty can never be forgotten. Gentleman-like 
and complaisant in his manners, his deep gravity and melancholy features 
announced that the sad scenes in which he had acted a part so honourable 
were never for a moment put of his memory. — ^coii s Life of Napoleon, 
edit. 1827, ii. p. 148. 



MURDER OF THE PRINCESSE DE LAMBALLE 395 

obtained permission to resume his duties, entered the Temple on the 
24th August, and for eight days shared with M. de Hue the personal 
attendance ; but on the 2d September De Hue was arrested, seals 
were placed on the little room he had occupied, and Clery passed the 
night in that of the King. On the following morning Manuel arrived, 
charged by the Commune to inform the King that De Hue would not 
be permitted to return, and to offer to send another person. "I thank 
you," answered the King. *' I will manage with the valet de chambre 
of my son; and if the council refuse I will serve myself. I am 
determined to do it."i On the 3d September Manuel visited the 
Temple and assured the King that Madame de Lamballe and all the 
other prisoners who had been removed to La Force were well, and 
safely guarded. "But at three o'clock," says Madame Royale, "just 
after dinner, and as the King was sitting down to tric-trac with my 
mother (which he played for the purpose of having an opportunity of 
saying a few words to her unheard by the keepers), the most horrid 
shouts were heard. The officer who happened to be on guard in the 
room behaved well. He shut the door and the window, and even 
drew the curtains to prevent their seeing anything ; but outside the 
workmen and the gaoler Rocher joined the assassins and increased the 
tumult. Several officers of the guard and the municipality now arrived, 
and on my father's asking what was the matter, a young officer replied, 
' Well, since you will know, it is the head of Madame de Lamballe 
that they want to show you.' At these words my mother was over- 
come with horror ; it was the only occasion on which her firmness 
abandoned her. The municipal officers were very angry with the 
young man ; but the King, with his usual goodness, excused him, 
saying that it was his own fault, since he had questioned the officer. 
The noise lasted till five o'clock. We learned that the people had 
wished to force the door, and that the municipal officers had been 
enabled to prevent it only by putting a tri-coloured scarf 2 across it, 
and allowing six of the murderers to march round our prison with the 
head of the Princess, leaving at the door her body, which they would 
have dragged in also." 

Clery was not so fortunate as to escape the frightful spectacle. He 
had gone down to dine with Tison and his wife, employed as servants 

^ Clary's Journal. 

2 Madame Royale says later in her narrative : " The municipal officer 
who had given his scarf to tie across the door took care to make my father 
pay him its value." Clery says that he himself "paid the forty-five sous." 



396 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

in the Temple, and says : *' We were hardly seated when a head, on 
the end of a pike, was presented at the window. Tison's wife gave a 
great cry ; the assassins fancied they recognised the Queen's voice, and 
responded by savage laughter. Under the idea that his Majesty was 
still at table, they placed their dreadful trophy where it must be seen. 
It was the head of the Princesse de Lamballe ; although bleeding, it was 
not disfigured, and her light hair, still in curls, hung about the pike. " 

At length the immense mob that surrounded the Temple gradually 
withdrew, *' to follow the head of the Princesse de Lamballe to the 
Palais Royal. "1 Meanwhile the royal family could scarcely believe 
that for the time their lives were saved. "My aunt and I heard the 
drums beating to arms all night," says Madame Royale; "my unhappy 
mother did not even attempt to sleep. We heard her sobs." 

In the comparative tranquillity which followed the September 
massacres, the royal family resumed the regular habits they had 
adopted on entering the Temple. ' ' The King usually rose at six in 
the morning," says Clery. " He shaved himself, and I dressed his 
hair ; he then went to his reading-room, which being very small, the 
municipal officer on duty remained, in the bed-chamber with the door 
open, that he might always keep the King in sight. His Majesty 
continued prapng on his knees for some time, and then read till nine. 
During that interval, after putting his chamber to rights and preparing 
the breakfast, I went down to the Queen, who never opened her door 
till I arrived, in order to prevent the municipal officer from going into 
her apartment. At nine o'clock the Queen, the children, and Madame 
Elizabeth went up to the King's chamber to breakfast. At ten the 
King and his family went down to the Queen's chamber, and there 
passed the day. He employed himself in educating his son, made him 
recite passages from Corneille and Racine, gave him lessons in geo- 
graphy, and exercised him in colouring the maps. The Queen, on her 
part, was employed in the education of her daughter, and these 
different lessons lasted till eleven o'clock. The remaining time till 
noon was passed in needlework, knitting, or making tapestry. At 

1 The pike that bore the head was fixed before the Due d' Orleans's 
window as he was going to dinner. It is said that he looked at this horrid 
sight without horror, went into the dining-room, sat down to table, and 
helped his guests without saying a word. His silence and coolness left it 
doubtful whether the assassins, in presenting him this bloody trophy, in- 
tended to offer him an insult or to pay him homage. — De MoUeville's 
Annals of the French Revolution, vol. vii. p. 388. 



DAILY LIFE OF THE ROYAL FAMILY 397 

one o'clock, when the weather was fine, the royal family were con- 
ducted to the garden by four municipal officers and the commander of 
a legion of the national guard. As there were a number of workmen 
in the Temple employed in pulling down houses and building new 
walls, they only allowed a part of the chestnut-tree walk for the 
promenade, in which I was allowed to share, and where I also played 
with the young Prince at ball, quoits, or races. At two we returned 
to the Tower, where I served the dinner, at which time Santerre regu- 
larly came to the Temple, attended by two aides-de-camp. The King 
sometimes spoke to him — the Queen never. 

" After the meal the royal family came down into the Queen's room, 
and their Majesties generally played a game of picquet or tric-trac. 
At four o'clock the King took a little repose, the Princesses round 
him, each with a book. . . . When the King woke the conversation 
was resumed, and I gave writing lessons to his son, taking the copies, 
according to his instructions, from the works of Montesquieu and 
other celebrated authors. After the lesson I took the young Prince 
into Madame Elizabeth's room, where we played at ball, and battle- 
dore and shuttlecock. In the evening the family sat round a table, 
while the Queen read to them firom books of history, or other works 
proper to instruct and amuse the children. Madame Elizabeth took 
the book in her turn, and in this manner they read till eight o'clock. 
After that I served the supper of the young Prince, in which the Royal 
family shared, and the King amused the children with charades out of 
a collection of French papers which he found in the library. After 
the Dauphin had supped, I undressed him, and the Queen heard him 
say his prayers. At nine the King went to supper, and afterwards 
went for a moment to the Queen's chamber, shook hands with her and 
her sister for the night, kissed his children, and then retired to the 
turret -room, where he sat reading till midnight. The Queen and 
the Princesses locked themselves in, and one of the municipal officers 
remained in the little room which parted their chamber, where he 
passed the night ; the other followed his Majesty. In this manner 
was the time passed as long as the King remained in the small tower. " 
But even these harmless pursuits were too often made the means of 
further insulting and thwarting the unfortunate family. Commissary 
Le Clerc interrupted the Prince's writing lessons, proposing to 
substitute Ref)ublican works for those from which the King selected 
his copies. A smith who was present when the Queen was reading 
the history of France to her children denounced her to the Commune 
for choosing the period when the Connetable de Bourbon took arms 



398 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

against France, and said she wished to inspire her son with unpatriotic 
feehngs ; a municipal officer asserted that the multiplication table the 
Prince was studying would afford a means of " speaking in cipher," so 
arithmetic had to be abandoned. Much the same occurred even with 
the needlework : the Queen and Princess finished some chairbacks, 
which they wished to send to the Duchesse de Tarente ; but the 
officials considered that the patterns were hieroglyphics, intended for 
carrying on a correspondence, and ordered that none of the Princesses' 
work should leave the Temple. The short daily walk in the garden 
was also embittered by the rude behaviour of the military and 
municipal gaolers ; sometimes, however, it afforded an opportunity for 
marks of sympathy to be shovm. People would station themselves at 
the windows of houses overlooking the Temple gardens, and evince by 
gestures their loyal affection, and some of the sentinels showed, even 
by tears, that their duty was painful to them. 

On the 2 1 St September the National Convention was constituted, 
Petion being made president and Collot d'Herbois moving the 
' ' abolition of royalty " amidst transports of applause. That afternoon 
a municipal officer, attended by gendarmes h, cheval and, followed by a 
crowd of people, arrived at the Temple, and, after a flourish of 
trumpets, proclaimed the establishment of the French Republic. The 
man, says Clery, "had the voice of a stentor." The royal family 
could distinctly hear the announcement of the King's deposition. 
" Hebert, so well known under the title of Pere Duchene, and 
Destournelles were on guard. They were sitting near the door, and 
turned to the King with meaning smiles. He had a book in his hand, 
and went on reading without changing countenance. The Queen 
showed the same firmness. The proclamation finished, the trumpets 
sounded afresh. I went to the window ; the people took me for 
Louis XVI., and.! was overwhelmed with insults." 

After the new decree the prisoners were treated with increased 
harshness. Pens, paper, ink, and pencils were taken from them. 
The King and Madame Elizabeth gave up all, but the Queen and her 
daughter each concealed a pencil. " In the beginning of October," 
says Madame Royale, " after my father had supped, he was told to 
stop, that he was not to return to his former apartments, and that he 
was to be separated from his family. At this dreadful sentence the 
Queen lost her usual courage. We parted from him with abundance 
of tears, though we expected to see him again in the morning. ^ 

1 At nine o'clock, says Clery, the King asked to betaken to his family, 



THE king's apartment 399 

They brought in our breakfast separately from his, however. My 
mother would take nothing. The officers, alarmed at, her silent and 
concentrated sorrow, allowed us to see the King, but at meal-times 
only, and on condition that we should not speak low, nor in any 
foreign language, but loud and in 'good French. '^ We went down, 
therefore, with the greatest joy to dine with my father. In the 
evening, when my brother was in bed, my mother and my aunt 
alternately sat with him or went with me to sup with my father. In 
the morning, after breakfast, we remained in the King's apartments 
while Clery dressed our hair, as he was no longer allowed to come 
to my mother's room, and this arrangement gave us the pleasure of 
spending a few moments more with my father." 2 

The royal prisoners had no comfort except their affection for each 
other. At that time even common necessaries were denied them. 
Their small stock of linen had been lent them by persons of the Court 
during the time they spent at the Feuillans.^ The Princesses mended 
their clothes every day, and after the King had gone to bed Madame 
Elizabeth mended his. " With much trouble," says Clery, " I 
procured some fresh linen for them. But the workwomen having 
marked it with crowned letters, the Princesses were ordered to pick 
them out." The room in the great tower to which the King had been 
removed contained only one bed, and no other article of furniture. A 
chair was brought on which Clery spent the first night ; painters were 
still at work on the room, and the smell of the paint, he says, was 
almost unbearable. This room was afterwards furnished by collecting 

but the municipal officers replied that they had "no orders for that," 
Shortly afterwards a boy brought the King some bread and a decanter of 
lemonade for his breakfast. The King gave half the bread to Clery, 
saying, "It seems they have forgotten your breakfast ; take this, the rest is 
enough for me." Clery refused, but the King insisted. "I could not 
contain my tears," he adds ; " the King perceived them, and his own fell 
also." 

^ Madame Elizabeth was violently rebuked by one of the officers for 
addressing her brother in a low tone. 

2 When the first deputation from the Council of the Commune visited 
the Temple, and formally inquired whether the King had any complaint to 
make, he replied, ' ' No ; while he was permitted to remain with his family 
he was happy. " 

^ Madame Cam pan says the Queen told her while at the Feuillans that 
the wife of the English Ambassador (the Countess of Sutherland) had pro- 
vided linen for the use of the Dauphin. (See ante,- p. 381.) 



400 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

from various parts of the Temple a chest of drawers, a small bureau, a 
few odd chairs, a chimney-glass, and a bed hung with green damask, 
which had been used by the captain of the guard to the Comte 
d'Artois. A room for the Queen was being prepared over that of the 
King, and she implored the workmen to finish it quickly, but it was 
not ready for her occupation for some time, and when she was allowed 
to remove to it the Dauphin was taken from her and placed with his 
father. When their Majesties met again in the great Tower, says 
Clery, there was little change in the hours fixed for meals, reading, 
walking, and the education of their children. They were not allowed 
to have mass said in the Temple, and therefore commissioned Clery to 
get them the breviary in use in the diocese of Paris. Among the books 
read by the King while in the Tower were Hume's History of England 
(in the original), Tasso, and the De Imitatione Christi. The jealous 
suspicions of the municipal officers led to the most absurd investiga- 
tions ; a draught-board was taken to pieces lest the squares should hide 
treasonable papers ; macaroons were broken in half to see that they 
did not contain letters ; peaches were cut open and the stones cracked ; 
and Clery was compelled to drink the essence of soap prepared for 
shaving the King, under the pretence that it might contain poison. 

In November the King and all the family had feverish colds, and 
Clery had an attack of rheumatic fever. On the first day of his illness 
he got up and tried to dress his master, but the King, seeing how ill he 
was, ordered him to lie down, and himself dressed the Dauphin. The 
little Prince waited on Clery all day, and in the evening the King 
contrived to approach his bed, and said in a low voice, " I should like 
to take care of you myself, but you know how we are watched. Take 
courage; to-morrow you shall see my doctor. "^ Madame Elizabeth 
brought the valet cooling draughts, of which she deprived herself j and 
after Clery was-able to get up, the young Prince one night with great 
difficulty kept awake till eleven o'clock in order to give him a box of 
lozenges when he went to make the King's bed. 

On 7th December a deputation from the Commune brought an 
order that the royal family should be deprived of " knives, razors, 
scissors, penknives, and all other cutting instruments." The King 
gave up a knife, and took from a morocco case a pair of scissors and a 
penknife ; and the officials then searched the room, taking away the 
little toilette implements of gold and silver, and afterwards removing 

1 M. Le Monnier, who had been allowed to attend the royal family 
during their slight illnesses. 



AFFECTION OF THE ROYAL FAMILY 401 

the Princesses' working materials. Returning to the King's room, 
they insisted on seeing what remained in his pocket-case. " Are these 
toys which I have in my hand also cutting instruments ? " asked the 
King, showing them a cork-screw, a turn-screw, and a steel for lighting. 
•These also were taken from him. Shortly afterwards Madame Eliza- 
beth was mending the King's coat, and, having no scissors, was com- 
pelled to break the thread with her teeth. "What a contrast !" he 
exclaimed, looking at her tenderly. "You wanted nothing in your 
pretty house at Montreuil." — "Ah, brother," she answered, "how can 
I have any regret when I partake your misfortunes ?"l 

The Queen had frequently to take on herself some of the humble 
duties of a servant. This was especially painful to Louis XVI. when 
the anniversary of some State festival brought the contrast between past 
and present with unusual keenness before him. "Ah, Madame," he 
once exclaimed, " what an employment for a Queen of France ! Could 
they see that at Vienna ! "Who would have foreseen that, in uniting 
your lot to mine, you would have descended so low?"— "And do you 
esteem as nothing," she replied, "the glory of being the wife of one 
of the best and most persecuted of men ? Are not such misfortunes the 
noblest honours ? " ^ 

Meanwhile the Assembly had decided that the King should be 
brought to trial. Nearly all parties, except the Girondists, no matter 
how bitterly opposed to each other, could agree in making him the 
scapegoat ; and the first rumour of the approaching ordeal was conveyed 
to the Temple by Clery's wife, who, with a friend, had permission 
occasionally to visit him. "I did not know how to announce this 
terrible news to the King," he says ; "but time was pressing, and he 
had forbidden my concealing anything from him. In the evening, while 
undressing him, I gave him an account of all I had learnt, and added 
that there were only four days to concert some plan of corresponding 
with the Queen. The arrival of the municipal officer would not allow 
me to say more. Next morning, when the King rose, I could not get 
a moment for speaking with him. He went up with his son to break- 
fast with the Princesses, and I followed. After breakfast he talked 
long with the Queen, who, by a look full of trouble, made me under- 
stand that they were discussing what I had told the King. During the 
day I found an opportunity of describing to Madame Elizabeth how 
much it had cost me to augment the King's distresses by informing him 
of his approaching trial. She reassured me, saying that the King felt 

^ ClQxy' s Journal. ^ Alison's History of EzcroI>e, vol. ii. p. 299. 

26 



402 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

this as a mark of attachment on my part, and added, ' That which 
most troubles him is the fear of being separated from us.' In the 
evening the King told me how satisfied he was at having had warning 
that he was to appear before the Convention. ' Continue, ' he said, 
' to endeavour to find out something as to what they want to do with 
me. Never fear distressing me. I have agreed with my family not to 
seem pre-informed, in order not to compromise you.' " 

On the nth December, at five o'clock in the morning, the prisoners 
heard the generale beaten throughout Paris, and cavalry and cannon 
entered the Temple gardens. At nine the King and the Dauphin went 
as usual to breakfast with the Queen. They were allowed to remain 
together for an hour, but constantly under the eyes of their republican 
guardians. At last they were obliged to part, doubtful whether they 
would ever see each other again. The little Prince, who remained 
with his father, and was ignorant of the new cause for anxiety, begged 
hard that the King would play at ninepins with him as usual. Twice 
the Dauphin could not get beyond a certain number. "Each time 
that I get up to sixteen,''^ he said, with some vexation, *' I lose the 
game." The King did not reply, but Clery fancied the words made a 
painful impression on him.i 

At eleven, while the King was giving the Dauphin a reading lesson, 
two municipal officers entered and said they had come " to take young 
Louis to his mother." The King inquired why, but was only told that 
such were the orders of the council. At one o'clock the Mayor 
of Paris, Chambon, accompanied by Chaumette, Procuretir de la 
Commune^ Santerre, commandant of the national guard, and others, 
arrived at the Temple and read a decree to the King, which ordered 
that " Louis Capet " should be brought before the Convention. 
"Capet is not my name," he replied, "but that of one of my ances- 
tors. I could- have wished, " he added, * ' that you had left my son 
with me during the last two hours. But this treatment is consistent 
with all I have experienced here. I follow you, not because I recog- 
nise the authority of the Convention, but because I can be compelled 
to obey it. " He then followed the ^Mayor to a carriage which waited, 
with a numerous escort, at the gate of the Temple. The family left 
behind were overwhelmed with grief and apprehension. * ' It is im- 
possible to describe the anxiety we suffered," says Madame Royale. 

^ In such crises the royal family naturally saw evil omens in things too 
trivial for notice at other times. See Madame Campan's story of the 
Queen's alarm about the candles on her toilette-table, ante, p. 221. 



APPEARANCE OF THE KING 403 

" My mother used every endeavour with the officer M^ho guarded her to 
discover what was passing ; it was the first time she had condescended 
to question any of these men. He would tell her nothing." 

Trial of the King — Parting of the Royal Family — 
Execution. 

The crowd was immense as, on the morning of nth December 
1792, Louis XVI. was driven slowly from the Temple to the Conven- 
tion, escorted by cavalry, infantry, and artillery. Paris looked like an 
armed camp : all the posts were doubled ; the muster-roll of the 
national guard was called over every hour ; a piquet of two hundred 
men watched in the court of each of the right sections ; a reserve with 
cannon was stationed at the Tuileries, and strong detachments patrolled 
the streets and cleared the road of all loiterers. The trees that lined 
the boulevards, the doors and windows of the houses, were alive with 
gazers, and all eyes were fixed on the King. He was much changed 
since his people last beheld him. The beard he had been compelled 
to grow after his razors were taken from him covered cheeks, lips, and 
chin with light-coloured hair, which concealed the melancholy expres- 
sion of his mouth ; he had become thin, and his garments hung loosely 
on him ; but his manner was perfectly collected and calm, and he 
recognised and named to the Mayor the various quarters through which 
he passed. On arriving at the Feuillans he was taken to a room to 
await the orders of the Assembly. 

It was about half-past two when the King appeared at the bar. 
The Mayor and Generals Santerre and Wittengoff were at his side. 
Profound silence pervaded the Assembly. All were touched by the 
King's dignity and the composure of his looks under so great a reverse 
of fortune. By nature he had been formed rather to endure calamity 
with patience than to contend against it with energy. The approach 
of death could not disturb his serenity. 

"Louis, you may be seated," said Barere. "Answer the questions 
that shall be put to you." The King seated himself and listened to 
the reading of the acte enonciatif, article by article. ^ All the faults of 
the Court were there enumerated and imputed to Louis XVI. per- 

1 The King sat down with an intrepid air ; no signs of emotion ap- 
peared on his countenance. The dignity and calmness of his presence 
were such that the Girondists were melted to tears, and the fanaticism of 
Saint Just, Robespierre, and Marat for a moment yielded to the feelings 
of humanity. — A lison. 



404 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

sonally. He was charged with the interioiption of the sittings of the 
2oth of June 1789, with the Bed of Justice held on the 23d of the 
same month, the aristocratic conspiracy thwarted by the insurrection of 
the 14th of July, the entertainment of the life-guards, the insults 
offered to the national cockade, the refusal to sanction the declaration 
of rights, as well as several constitutional articles ; lastly, all the facts 
which indicated a new conspiracy in October, and which were followed 
by the scenes of the 5th and 6th ; the speeches of reconciliation which 
had succeeded all these scenes, and which promised a change that was 
not sincere ; the false oath taken at the Federation of the 14th of July ; 
the secret practices of Talon and Mirabeau to effect a counter-revolu- 
tion ; the money spent in bribing a great number of deputies ; the 
assemblage of the "knights of the dagger" on the 28th of February 
1791 ; the flight to Varennes ; the fusilade of the Champ de Mars; 
the silence observed respecting the treaty of Pilnitz ; the delay in the 
promulgation of the decree which incorporated Avignon with France ; 
the commotions at Nimes, Montauban, Mende, and Jales ; the con- 
tinuance of their pay to the emigrant life-guards and to the disbanded 
constitutional guard ; the insufficiency of the armies assembled on the 
frontiers ; the refusal to sanction the decree for the camp of twenty 
thousand v^.-n; the disarming of the fortresses; the organisation of 
secret societies in the interior of Paris ; the review of the Swiss and the 
garrison of the Palace on the loth August; the summoning the Mayor 
to the Tuileries ; and lastly, the effusion of blood which had resulted 
from these militaiy dispositions. After each article the President 
paused, and said, " What have you to answer?" The King, in a firm 
voice, denied some of the facts, imputed others to his ministers, and 
always appealed to the constitution, from which he declared he had 
never deviated. His answers were very temperate, but on the charge 
— "You spilt tlie blood of the people on the loth of August," he ex- 
claimed with emphasis, "No sir, no ; it was not 1."^ 

All the papers on which the act of accusation was founded were 
then shown to the King, and he disavowed some of them and disputed 
the existence of the iron chest ; this produced a bad impression, and 
was worse than useless, as the fact had been proved. ^ Throughout the 

1 Thiers's French Revolution, edit. 1854, vol. ii. pp. 198-200. 

2 A secret closet which the King had directed to be constructed in a 
wall in the Tuileries. The door was of iron, whence it was afterwards 
known by the name of the iroii chest. See Thiers, and Scott ; see also 
ante, pp. 89, 355. 



THE ROYAL FAMILY PARTED 405 



examination the King showed great presence of mind. He was 
careful in his answers never to implicate any members of the constituent 
and legislative Assemblies ; many who then sat as his judges trembled lest 
he should betray them. The Jacobins beheld with dismay the profound 
impression made on the Convention by the firm but mild demeanour of 
the sovereign. The most violent of the party proposed that he should 
be hanged that very night ; a laugh as of demons followed the proposal 
from the benches of the Mountain, but the majority, composed of the 
Girondists and the neutrals, decided that he should be formally tried. 1 

After the examination Santerre took the King by the arm and led 
him back to the waiting-room of the Convention, accompanied by 
Chambon and Chaumette. Mental agitation and the length of the 
proceedings had exhausted him, and he staggered from weakness. 
Chaumette inquired if he wished for refreshment, but the King refused 
it. A moment after, seeing a grenadier of the escort offer the Pro- 
cureur de la Commune half a small loaf, Louis XVI. approached and 
asked him, in a whisper, for a piece. "Ask aloud for what you want," 
said Chaumette, retreating as though he feared being suspected of pity. 
" I ask for a piece of your bread," replied the King. " Divide it with 
me," said Chaumette. "It is a Spartan breakfast. If I had a root 
I would give you half." ^ 

Soon after six in the evening the King returned to the Temple. 
"He seemed tired," says Clery simply, "and his first wish was to be 
led to his family. The officers refused, on the plea that they had no 
orders. He insisted that at least they should be informed of his 
return, and this was promised him. The King ordered me to ask for 
his supper at half-past eight. The intervening hours he employed in 
his usual reading, surrounded by four municipals. "When I announced 
that supper was served, the King asked the commissaries if his family 
could not come down. They made no reply. ' But at least,' the King 
said, ' my son will pass the night in my room, his bed being here ? ' 
The same silence. After supper the King again urged his wish to see 
his family. They answered that they must await the decision of the 
Convention. While I was undressing him the King said, ' I was far 
from expecting all the questions they put to me. ' He lay down with 
perfect calmness. The order for my removal during the night was not 
executed." On the King's return to the Temple being known, "my 
mother asked to see him instantly," writes Madame Royale. "She 

^ Alison's History of Europe, loth edit., vol. ii. p. 301. 

- hamavtine's History 0/ ^Ae Girondists, edit. 1870, vol. ii. p. 313. 



4o6 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

made the same request even to Chambon, but received no answer. 
My brother passed the night with her ; and as he had no bed, she gave 
him hers, and sat up all the night in such deep affliction that we were 
afraid to leave her ; but she compelled m.y aunt and me to go to bed. 
Next day she again asked to see my father, and to read the newspapers, 
that she might learn the course of the trial. She entreated that if she 
was to be denied this indulgence, his children, at least, might see him. 
Her requests were referred to the Commune. The newspapers were 
refused ; but my brother and I were to be allowed to see my father 
on condition of being entirely separated from my mother. My father 
replied that, great as his happiness was in seeing his children, the 
important business which then occupied him would not allow of his 
attending altogether to his son, and that his daughter could not leave 
her mother." 1 

The Assembly having, after a violent debate, resolved that Louis 
XVI. should have the aid of counsel, a deputation was sent to the 
Temple to ask whom he would choose. The King named MM. Tar- 
get and Tronchet : the former refused his services on the ground that 
he had discontinued practice since 1785 ; the latter complied at once 
with the King's request ; and while the Assembly was considering whom 
to nominate in Target's place, the President received a letter from the 
venerable Malesherbes,^ then seventy years old, and "the most 
respected magistrate in France," in the course of which he said, "I 
have been twice called to be counsel for him who was my master, in 
times when that duty was coveted by every one. I owe him the same 
service now that it is a duty which many people deem dangerous. If 
I knew any possible means of acquainting him with my desires, I 
should not take the liberty of addressing myself to you." Other 

^ During their last interview Madame Elizabeth had given Clery one of 
her handkerchiefs, saying, " You shall keep it so long as my brother con- 
tinues well ; if he becomes ill, send it to me among my nephew's things." 

- Christian Guillaume de Lamoignon de Malesherbes, an eminent 
French statesman, son of the Chancellor of France, was born at Paris in 
1721. In 1750 he succeeded his father as President of the Court of Aids, 
and was also made superintendent of the press. On the banishment of the 
Parliaments and the suppression of the Court of Aids, Malesherbes was 
exiled to his country-seat. In 1775 he was appointed Minister of State. 
On the decree of the Convention for the King's trial, he emerged from his 
retreat to become the voluntary advocate of his sovereign. Malesherbes 
was guillotined in 1794, and almost his whole family were extirpated by 
their merciless persecutors. — Encyclop(sdia A^nericana. 



LOYALTY OF MALESHERBES 407 

citizens made similar proposals, but the King, being made acquainted 
with them by a deputation from the Commune, while expressing his 
gratitude for all the offers, only accepted that of Malesherbes.i 

On 14th December M. Tronchet was allowed to confer with the 
King, and later in the same day M. de Malesherbes was admitted 
to the Tower. "The King ran up to this worthy old man, whom he 
clasped in his arms," says Clery, " and the former minister melted into 
tears at the sight of his master. " 2 Another deputation brought the 
King the Act of Accusation and the documents relating to it, number- 
ing more than a hundred, and taking from four o'clock till midnight to 
read. During this long process the King had refreshments served to 
the deputies, taking nothing himself till they had left, but considerately 
reproving Clery for not having supped. From the 14th to the 26th 
December the King saw his counsel and their colleague M. de Seze 
every day. At this time a means of communication between the royal 
family and the King was devised ; a man named Turgi, who had been 
in the royal kitchen, and who contrived to obtain employment in the 
Temple, when conveying the meals of the royal family to their apart- 
ments, or articles he had purchased for them, managed to give Madame 
Elizabeth news of the King. Next day the Princess, when Turgi was 
removing the dinner, slipped into his hand a bit of paper on which she 
had pricked with a pin a request for a word from her brother's own 
hand. Turgi gave this paper to Clery, who conveyed it to the King 
the same evening ; and he, being allowed writing materials while pre- 
paring his defence, wrote Madame Elizabeth a short note. An answer 
was conveyed in a ball of cotton, which Turgi threw under Cleiy's bed 
while passing the door of his room. Letters were also passed between 
the Princess's room and that of Clery, who lodged beneath her, by means 
of a string let down and drawn up at night. This communication with 

1 The Citoyenne Olympia Degouges, calling herself a free and loyal 
Republican without spot or blame, and declaring that the cold and selfish 
cruelty of Target had inflamed her heroism and roused her sensibility, 
asked permission to assist M. de Malesherbes in defending the King. The 
Assembly passed to the order of the day on this request. — Bertrand de 
MoUeville's Annals, edit. 1802, vol. viii. p. 254. 

2 According to M. de Hue, ' ' The first time M. de Malesherbes entered 
the Temple the King clasped him in his arms and said, ' Ah, is it you, my 
friend ? You fear not to endanger your own life to save mine ; but all will 
be useless. They will bring me to the scaffold. No matter ; I shall gahi 
my cause if I leave an unspotted memory behind me.' " 



4o8 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

his family was a great comfort to the King, who nevertheless constantly 
cautioned his faithful servant. "Take care," he would say kindly, 
"you expose yourself too much." ^ 

During his separation from his family the King refused to go into 
the garden. When it was proposed to him he said, " I cannot make 
up my mind to go out alone ; the walk was agreeable to me only when 
I shared it with my family." But he did not allow himself to dwell on 
painful reflections. He talked freely to the municipals on guard, and 
surprised them by his varied and practical knowledge of their trades, 
and his interest in their domestic affairs. On the 19th December the 
King's breakfast was served as usual ; but, being a fast-day, he refused 
to take anything. At dinner-time the King said to Clery, *' Fourteen 
years ago you were up earlier than you were to-day ; it is the day my 
daughter was born — to-day, her birthday," he repeated with tears, 
" and to be prevented from seeing her ! " Madame Royale had wished 
for a calendar ; the King ordered Clery to buy her the Almanac of the 
Republic, which had replaced the Court Almanac, and ran through it, 
marking with a pencil many names. 

" On Christmas Day," says Clery, "the King wrote his will." 2 
On the 26th December 1792 the King appeared a second time 
before the Convention. M. de Seze, labouring night and day, had 
completed his defence. The King insisted on excluding from it all 
that was too rhetorical, and confining it to the mere discussion of 
essential points. ^ At half-past nine in the morning the whole armed 

1 The King's natural benevolence was constantly shown while in the 
Temple. His own dreadful position never prevented him from sympathy 
with the smaller troubles of others. A servant in the Temple named 
Marchand, the father of a family, was robbed of two hundred francs — his 
wages for two months. The King observed his distress, asked its cause, 
and gave Clery the amount to be handed to Marchand, with a caution not 
to speak of it to any one, and, above all, not to thank the King, lest it 
should injure him with his employers. 

2 Madame Royale says : " On the 26th December, St. Stephen's Day, 
my father made his will, because he expected to be assassinated that day 
on bis way to the bar of the Convention. He went thither, nevertheless, 
with his usual calmness." — Royal Memoirs, p. 195. 

2 When the pathetic peroration of M. de Seze was read to the King, 
the evening before it was delivered to the Assembly, ' ' I have to request of 
you," he said, " to make a painful sacrifice ; strike out of your pleading 
the peroration. It is enough for me to appear before such judges, and 
show my entire innocence ; I will not move their feelings." — Lacretelle. 



STORMY SCENE IN THE ASSEMBLY 409 

force was in motion to conduct him from the Temple to the Feuillans, 
with the same precautions and in the same order as had been observed 
on the former occasion. Riding in the carriage of the Mayor, he con- 
versed, on the way, with the same composure as usual, and talked of 
Seneca, of Livy, of the hospitals. Arrived at the Feuillans, he showed 
great anxiety for his defenders ; he seated himself beside them in the 
Assembly, surveyed with great composure the benches where his 
accusers and his judges sat, seemed to examine their faces with the view 
of discovering the impression produced by the pleading of M. de Seze, 
and more than once conversed smilingly with Tronchet and Male- 
sherbes. The Assembly received his defence in sullen silence, but 
without any tokens of disapprobation. 

Being afterwards conducted to an adjoining room with his counsel, 
the King showed great anxiety about M. de Seze, who seemed fatigued 
by the long defence. While riding back to the Temple he conversed with 
his companions with the same serenity as he had shown on leaving it. 

No sooner had the King left the hall of the Convention than a 
violent tumult arose there. Some were for opening the discussion. 
Others, complaining of the delays which postponed the decision of 
this process, demanded the vote immediately, remarking that in every 
court, after the accused had been heard, the judges proceed to give 
their opinion. Lanjuinais had from the commencement of the pro- 
ceedings felt an indignation, which his impetuous disposition no longer 
suffered him to repress. He darted to the tribune, and, amidst the 
cries excited by his presence, demanded the annulling of the proceedings 
altogether. He exclaimed that the days of ferocious men were gone 
by, that the Assembly ought not to be so dishonoured as to be made 
to sit in judgment on Louis XVI., that no authority in France had 
that right, and the Assembly in particular had no claim to it ; that if 
it resolved to act as a political body, it could do no more than take 
measures of safety against the ci-devant King ; but that if it was acting 
as a court of justice it was overstepping all principles, for it was sub- 
jecting the vanquished to be tried by the conquerors ; since most of 
the present members had declared themselves the conspirators of the 
loth of August. At the word conspirators a tremendous uproar arose 
on all sides. Cries of " Order f'' " To the Abbaye I" ^^ Down with the 
Tribune!'" were heard. Lanjuinais strove in vain to justify the word 
conspii'ators, saying that he meant it to be taken in a favourable sense, 
and that the loth of August was a glorious conspiracy. He concluded 
by declaring that he would rather die a thousand deaths than condemn, 
contrary to all laws, even the most execrable of tyrants. 



410 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

A great number of speakers followed, and the confusion kept con- 
tinually increasing. The members, determined not to hear any more, 
mingled together, formed groups, abused and threatened one another. 
After a tempest of an hour's duration tranquillity was at last restored, 
and the Assembly, adopting the opinion of those who demanded the 
discussion on the trial of Louis XVI., declared that it was opened, and 
that it should be continued, to the exclusion of all other business, till 
sentence should be passed. 

The discussion was accordingly resumed on the 27 th, and there 
was a constant succession of speakers from the 28th to the 31st. 
Vergniaud at length ascended the tribune for the first time, and an 
extraordinary eagerness was manifested to hear the Girondists express 
their sentiments by the lips of their greatest orator. 

The speech of Vergniaud produced a deep impression on all his 
hearers. Robespierre was thunderstruck by his earnest and persuasive 
eloquence. Vergniaud, however, had but shaken, not convinced, the 
Assembly, which wavered between the two parties. Several members 
were successively heard, for and against the appeal to the people. 
Brissot, Gensonne, Petion, supported it in their turn. One speaker 
at length had a decisive influence on the question. Barere, by his 
suppleness, and his cold and evasive eloquence, was the model and 
oracle of the centre. He spoke at great length on the trial, reviewed 
it in all its bearings — of facts, of laws, and of policy — and furnished 
all those weak minds who only wanted specious reasons for yielding, 
with motives for the condemnation of the King. From that moment 
the unfortunate King was condemned. The discussion lasted till the 
7th, and nobody would listen any longer to the continual repetition of 
the same facts and arguments. It was therefore declared to be closed 
without opposition, but the proposal of a fresh adjournment excited a 
commotion among the most violent, and ended in a decree which fixed 
the 14th of January for putting the questions to the vote. 

Meantime the King did not allow the torturing suspense to disturb 
his outward composure, or lessen his kindness to those around him. 
On the morning after his second appearance at the bar of the Conven- 
tion, the commissary Vincent, who had undertaken secretly to convey 
to the Queen a copy of the King's printed defence, asked for something 
which had belonged to him, to treasure as a relic ; the King took off 
his neck handkerchief and gave it him ; his gloves he bestowed on 
another municipal, who had made the same request. ** On January 
1st," says Clery, " I approached the King's bed and asked permission 
to offer him my warmest prayers for the end of his misfortunes. ' I 



SENTENCE OF DEATH 41 1 



accept your good wishes with affection,' he replied, extending his hand 
to me. As soon as he had risen, he requested a municipal to go and 
inquire for his family, and present them his good wishes for the new 
year. The officers were moved by the tone in which these words, so 
heartrending considering the position of the King, were pronounced. 
The correspondence between their Majesties went 'on constantly. 
The King being informed that Madame Royale was ill, was very 
uneasy for some days. The Queen, after begging earnestly, obtained 
permission for M. Brunnier, the medical attendant of the royal children, 
to come to the Temple. This seemed to quiet him." 1 

The nearer the moment which was to decide the King's fate ap- 
proached, the greater became the agitation in Paris, "A report was 
circulated that the atrocities of September were to be repeated there, 
and the prisoners and their relatives beset the deputies with supplica- 
tions that they would snatch them from destruction. The Jacobins, 
on their part, alleged that conspiracies were hatching in all quarters 
to save Louis XVI. from punishment, and to restore royalty. Their 
anger, excited by delays and obstacles, assumed a more threatening 
aspect ; and the two parties thus alarmed one another by supposing 
that each harboured sinister designs." 

On the 14th January the Convention called for the order of the 
day, being the final judgment of Louis XVI. 

"The sitting of the Convention which concluded the trial," says 
Hazlitt, " lasted seventy-two hours. It might naturally be supposed that 
silence, restraint, a sort of religious awe, would have pervaded the 
scene. On the contrary, everything bore the marks of gaiety, dissipa- 
tion, and the most grotesque confusion. The farther end of the hall 
was converted into boxes, where ladies, in a studied deshabille, 
swallowed ices, oranges, liqueurs, and received the salutations of the 
members who went and came, as on ordinary occasions. Here the 
door-keepers on the Mountain side opened and shut the boxes reserved 
for the mistresses of the Due d' Orleans ; and there, though every sound 
of approbation or disapprobation was strictly forbidden, you heard the 
long and indignant ' Ha, ha's !' of the mother-duchess, the patroness 
of the bands of female Jacobins, whenever her ears were not loudly 
greeted with the welcome sounds of death. The upper gallery, reserved 
for the people, was during the whole trial constantly full of strangers 

i " I had something the matter with my foot," writes Madame Royale, 
"and my father, having heard of it, was, with his usual tenderness, very 
uneasy, and made constant inquiries." 



412 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

of every description drinking wine as in a tavern. Bets were made as 
to the issue of the trial in all the neighbouring coffee-houses. Ennui, 
impatience, disgust sat on almost every countenance. The figures passing 
and repassing, rendered more ghastly by the pallid lights, and who in 
a slow, sepulchral voice only pronounced the word — Death ; others cal- 
culating if they should have time to go to dinner before they gave their 
verdict ; women pricking cards with pins in order to count the votes ; 
some of the deputies fallen asleep, and only waking up to give their 
sentence ; all this had the appearance rather of a hideous dream than 
of a reality. " 

The Due d'Orleans, when called on to give his vote for the death 
of his King and relation, walked with a faltering step, and a face paler 
than death itself, to the appointed place, and there read these words : 
" Exclusively governed by my duty, and convinced that all those who 
have resisted the sovereignty of the people deserve death, my vote is 
for death !" Important as the accession of the first Prince of the 
blood was to the terrorist faction, his conduct in this instance was too 
obviously selfish and atrocious not to excite a general feeling of indig- 
nation ; the agitation of the Assembly became extreme ; it seemed as 
if by this single vote the fate of the monarch was irrevocably sealed. 

The President having examined the register, the result of the 
scrutiny was proclaimed as follows : — 

For an appeal to the people . , 283 

Against an appeal to the people . . 480 

Majority for final judgment . . 197 

The President having announced that he was about to declare the 
result of the scrutiny, a profound silence ensued, and he then gave in 
the following declaration, that out of 719 votes, 366 were for Death, 
319 were for imprisonment during the war, 2 for perpetual imprison- 
ment, 8 for a suspension of the execution of the sentence of death 
until after the expulsion of the family of the Bourbons, 23 were for 
not putting him to death until the French territory was invaded by any 
foreign power, and i was for a sentence of death, but with power of 
commutation of the punishment, ^ 

After this enumeration the President took off his hat, and lowering 
his voice said, "In consequence of this expression of opinion I declare 
that the punishment pronounced by the National Convention against 
Louis Capet is Death !" 

Previous to the passing of the sentence the President announced on 

^ The analysis of votes given by Thiers slightly differs from this. 



THE KING LEARNS HIS FATE ' 413 

the part of the Foreign Minister the receipt of a letter from the Spanish 
Minister relative to that sentence. The Convention, however, refused 
to hear it. [It will be remembered that a similar remonstrance was 
forwarded by the English Government.] 

M. de Malesherbes, according to his promise to the King, went to 
the Temple at nine o'clock on the morning of the lyth.i ' "All is lost " 
he said to Clery. « « The King is condemned. " The King, who saw him 
arrive, rose to receive him. 2 M. de Malesherbes threw himself at his feet 
choked by sobs. The King raised him up and affectionately embraced 
him. When he could controLhis voice, De Malesherbes informed the 
King of the decree sentencing him to death ; he made no movement of 
surprise or emotion, but seemed only affected by the distress of his 
advocate, whom he tried to comfort. 

On the 20th of January, at two in the afternoon, Louis XVI. was 
awaiting his advocates, when he heard the approach of a numerous 
party. He stopped with dignity at the door of his apartment, appar- 
ently unmoved. Garat then told him sorrowfully that he was com- 
missioned to communicate to him the decrees of the Convention. 
Grouvelle, secretary of the executive council, read them to him. The 
first declared Louis XVI. guilty of treason against the general safety of 
the State ; the second condemned him to death ; the third rejected any 
appeal to the people; and the fourth and last ordered his execution in 
twenty-four hours. Louis, looking calmly round, took the paper from 
Grouvelle, and read Garat a letter, in which he demanded from the 

1 Louis was fully prepared for his fate. During the calling of the votes 
he asked M. de Malesherbes, ' ' Have you not met near the Temple the 
White Lady?" — "What do you mean?" replied he. "Do you not 
know," resumed the King with a smile, "that when a prince of our house 
is about to die, a female dressed in white is seen wandering about the 
palace? My friends," added he to his defenders, "I am about to depart 
before you for the land of the just, but there, at least, we shall be re- 
united." In fact, his Majesty's only apprehension seerned to be for his 
family, — A lison. 

2 When M. de Malesherbes went to the Temple to announce the result 
of the vote, he found Louis with his forehead resting on his hands, and 
absorbed in a deep reverie. Without inquiring concerning his fate, he 
said, ' ' For two hours I have been considering whether, during my whole 
reign, I have voluntarily given any cause of complaint to my subjects ; 
and with perfect sincerity I declare that I deserve no reproach at their 

hands, and that I have never formed a wish but for their happiness." 

Lacretelle. 



414 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Convention three days to prepare for death, a confessor to assist him 
in his last moments, liberty to see his family, and permission for them 
to leave France. Garat took the letter, promising to submit it immedi- 
ately to the Convention. 

Louis XVI. then went back into his room with great composure, 
ordered his dinner, and ate as usual. There were no knives on the 
table, and his attendants refused to let him have any. " Do they 
think me so cowardly," he exclaimed, "as to lay violent hands on 
myself? I am innocent, and I am not afraid to die." 

The Convention refused the delay, but granted some other demands 
which he had made. Garat sent for Edgeworth de Firmont, the 
ecclesiastic whom Louis XVI. had chosen, and took him in his own 
carriage to the Temple. ^ M. Edgeworth, on being ushered into the 
presence of the King, would have thrown himself at his feet, but Louis, 
instantly raised him, and both shed tears of emotion. He then, with 
eager curiosity, asked various questions, concerning the clergy of France, 
several bishops, and particularly the Archbishop of Paris, requesting 
him to assure the latter that he died faithfully attached to his com- 
munion. The clock having struck eight, he rose, begged M. Edge- 
worth to wait, and retired with emotion, saying that he was going to 
see his family. The municipal officers, unwilling to lose sight of the 
King, even while with his family, had decided that he should see them 
in the dining-room, which had a glass door, through which they could 
watch all his motions v/ithout hearing what he said. At half-past eight 
the door opened. The Queen, holding the Dauphin by the hand, 
Madame Elizabeth, and Madame Royale, rushed sobbing into the arms 
of Louis XVI. The door was closed, and the municipal officers, Cleiy, 
and M. Edgeworth placed themselves behind it. During the first 
moments, it was but a scene of confusion and despair. Cries and 

^ Henry Essex Edgeworth de Firmont, father-confessor of Louis XVI. , 
was born in Ireland in 1745, in the village of Edgeworthstown. His 
father, an episcopalian clergyman, adopted the Catholic faith with his 
family, and went to France. His piety and good conduct obtained him 
the confidence of Madame Elizabeth, who chose him for her confessor, 
and made him known to Louis. M. Edgeworth arrived in England in 
1796. Pitt offered him a pension, which he declined. He soon after 
followed Louis XVIII. to Blankenburg in Brunswick, and thence to Mittau. 
M. Edgeworth died in 1807, of a fever caught in attending to some French 
emigrants. The Duchesse d' Angouleme waited on him in his last moments, 
the royal family followed him to the tomb, and Louis XVIII. wrote his 
epitaph. — Encyclopcedia Americana. 



LAST INTERVIEW OF THE KING AND QUEEN 415 

lamentations prevented those who were on the watch from distinguish- 
ing anything. At length the conversation became more calm, and the 
Princesses, still holding the King clasped in their arms, spoke with 
him in a low tone. " He related his trial to my mother," says 
Madame Royale, " apologising for the wretches who had condemned 
him. He told her that he would not consent to ahy attempt to save 
him, which might excite disturbance in the country. He then gave 
my brother some religious advice, and desired him, above all, to forgive 
those who caused his death ; and he gave us his blessing. My mother 
was very desirous that the wjiole family should pass the night with my 
father, but he opposed this, observing to her that he much needed 
some hours of repose and quiet." After a long conversation, inter- 
rupted by silence and grief, the King put an. end to the painful meeting, 
agreeing to see his family again at eight the next morning. "Do you 
promise that you will ?" earnestly inquired the Princesses. " Yes, 
yes," sorrowfully replied the King."i At this moment the Queen held 
him by one arm, Madame Elizabeth by the other, while Madame 
Royale clasped him round the waist, and the Dauphin stood before 
him, with one hand in that of his mother. At the moment of retiring 
Madame Royale fainted ; she was carried away, and the King returned 
to M. Edgeworth deeply depressed by this painful interview. The 
King retired ^to rest about midnight; M. Edgeworth threw himself 
upon a bed, and Clery took his place near the pillow of his master. 

Next morning, the 21st of January, at five, the King awoke, 
called Clery, and dressed with great calmness. He congratulated him. 
self on having recovered his strength by sleep. Clery kindled a fire, 
and moved a chest of drawers, out of which he formed an altar. M. 
Edgeworth put on his pontifical robes, and began to celebrate mass. 
Clery waited on him, and the King listened, kneeling with the greatest 
devotion. He then received the communion from the hands of M. 
Edgeworth, and after mass rose with new vigour, and awaited with 
composure the moment for going to the scaffold. He asked for scissors 
that Clery might cut his hair; but the Commune refused to trust him 
with a pair. 

At this moment the drums were beating in the capital. All who 
belonged to the armed sections repaired to their company with com- 
plete submission. It was reported that four or five hundred devoted 
men were to make a dash upon the carriage, and rescue the King. 

^ " But when we were gone," says his daughter, " he requested that we 
might not be permitted to return, as our presence afiflicted him too much." 



41 6 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

The Convention, the Commune, the executive council, and the 
Jacobins were sitting. At eight in the morning, Santerre, with a 
deputation from the Commune, the department, and the criminal 
tribunal, repaired to the Temple. Louis XVL, on hearing them 
arrive, rose and prepared to depart. He desired Clery to transmit his 
last farewell to his wife, his sister, and his children; he gave him a 
sealed packet, hair, and various trinkets, with directions to deliver 
these articles to them.i He then clasped his hand and thanked him 
for his services. After this he addressed himself to one of the munici- 
pal officers, requesting him to transmit his last will to the Commune. 
This officer, who had formerly been a priest, and was named Jacques 
Roux, brutally replied that his business was to conduct him to execution, 
and not to perform his commissions. Another person took charge of it, and 
Louis, turning towards the party, gave with firmness the signal for starting. 

Officers of gendarmerie were placed on the front seat of the 
carriage. The King and M. Edgeworth occupied the back. During 
the ride, which was rather long, the King read in M. Edgeworth's 
breviary the prayers for persons at the point of death; the two gen- 
darmes were astonished at his piety and tranquil resignation. The 
vehicle advanced slowly, and amidst universal silence. At the Place 
de la Revolution an extensive space had been left vacant about the 
scaffold. Around this space were planted cannon ; the most violent of 
the Federalists were stationed about the scaffold ; and the vile rabble, 
always ready to insult genius, virtue, and misfortune, when a signal is 
given it to do so, crowded behind the ranks of the FederaHsts, and alone 
manifested some outward tokens of satisfaction. 

At ten minutes past ten the carriage stopped. Louis XVL, rising 
briskly, stepped out into the Place. Three executioners came up ; he 
refused their assistance, and took off his clothes himself. But, per- 
ceiving that they were going to bind his hands, he made a movement 
of indignation, and seemed ready to resist. M. Edgeworth gave him 

1 In the course of the morning the King said to me, ' ' You will give 
this seal to my son and this ring to the Queen, and assure her that it is 
with pain I part with it. This little packet contains the hair of all my 
family ; you will give her that too. Tell the Queen, my dear sister, and 
my children, that, although I promised to see them again this morning, I 
have resolved to spare them the pang of so cruel a separation. Tell them 
how much it costs me to go away without receiving their embraces once 
more ! " He wiped away some tears, and then added in the most mourn- 
ful accents, " I charge you to bear them my last farewell." — Clery. 



EXECUTION OF LOUIS XVL 417 

i 

a last look, and said, " Suffer this outrage, as a last resemblance to 
that God who is about to be your rewafd." At these words the King 
suffered himself to be bound and conducted to the scaffold. All at 
once Louis hurriedly advanced to address the people. "Frenchmen," 
said he, in a firm voice, "I die innocent of the crimes which are imputed 
to me ; I forgive the authors of my death, and I pray that my blood 
may not fall upon France. "^ He would have continued, but the drums 
were instantly ordered to beat : their rolling drowned his voice ; the 
executioners laid hold of him, and M. Edgeworth took his leave in 
these memorable words: "Son of Saint Louis, ascend to heaven!" 
As soon as the blood flowed, furious wretches dipped their pikes and 
handkerchiefs in it, then dispersed throughout Paris, shouting " Vive la 
Republique! Vive la Nation!^'' and even went to the gates of the Temple 
to display brutal and factious joy. 2 

The Royal Prisoners — Separation of the Dauphin from 
HIS Family — Removal of the Queen. 

On the morning of the King's execution, according to the narrative 
of Madame Royal e, his family rose at six : " The night before, my 
mother had scarcely strength enough to put my brother to bed. She 
threw herself, dressed as she was, on her own bed, where we heard her 
shivering with cold and grief all night long. At a quarter past six the 
door opened; we believed that we were sent for to the King, but it was 

1 Thiers' s French Revolution. 

2 The body of Louis was, immediately after the execution, removed to 
the ancient cemetery of the Madeleine. Large quantities of quicklime 
were thrown into the grave, which occasioned so rapid a decomposition 
that, when his remains were sought for in 18 15, it was with difficulty any 
part could be recovered. Over the spot where he was interred Napoleon 
commenced the splendid Temple of Glory, after the battle of Jena ; and 
the superb edifice was completed by the Bourbons, and now forms the 
church of the Madeleine, the most beautiful structure in Paris. Louis was 
executed on the same ground where the Queen, Madame Elizabeth, and 
so many other noble victims of the Revolution perished ; where Robespierre 
and Danton afterwards suffered ; and where the Emperor Alexander and 
the allied sovereigns took their station, when their victorious troops entered 
Paris in 18 14! The history of modern Europe has not a scene fraught 
with equally interesting recollections to exhibit. It is now marked by the 
colossal obelisk of blood-red granite which was brought from Thebes, in 
Upper Egypt, in 1833, by the French Government. — Alison. 

27 



4i8 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

only the officers looking for a prayer-book for him. We did not, 
however, abandon the hope of seeing him, till shouts of joy from the 
infuriated populace told us that all was over. In the afternoon my 
mother asked to see Clery, who probably had some message for her ; 
we hoped that seeing him would occasion a burst of grief which might 
relieve the state of silent and choking agony in which we saw her." 
The request was refused, and the officers who brought the refusal said 
Clery was in *'a frightful state of despair" at not being allowed to 
see the royal family; shortly afterwards he was dismissed from the 
Temple. 

"We had now a little more freedom," continues the Princess; 
" our guards even believed that we were about to be sent out of 
France ; but nothing could calm my mother's agony ; no hope could 
touch her heart ; and life or death became indifferent to her. Fortu- 
nately my own affliction increased my illness so seriously that it dis- 
tracted her thoughts. . . . My mother would go no more to the 
garden, because she must have passed the door of what had been my 
father's room, and that she could not bear. But fearing lest want of 
air should prove injurious to my brother and me, about the end of 
February she asked permission to walk on the leads of the Tower, and 
it was granted." The council of the Commune becoming aware of 
the interest which these sad promenades excited, and the sympathy 
with which they were observed from the neighbouring houses, ordered 
that the spaces between the battlements should be filled up with shutters, 
which intercepted the view. But while the rules for the Queen's captivity 
were again made more strict, some of the municipal commissioners tried 
slightly to alleviate it, and by means of M. de Hue, who was at liberty 
in Paris, and the faithful Turgi, who remained in the Tower, some com- 
munications passed between the royal family and their friends. The wife 
of Tison, who waited on the Queen, suspected and finally denounced 
these more lenient guardians, ^ who were executed, the royal prisoners 
being subjected to a close examination. 

" On the 20th of April," says Madame Royale, " my mother and 
I had just gone to bed when Hebert arrived with several municipals. 
We got up hastily, and these men read us a decree of the Commune 
directing that we should be searched. My poor brother was asleep ; 
they tore him from his bed under the pretext of examining it. My 
mother took him up, shivering with cold. All they took were a shop- 
keeper's card which my mother had happened to keep, a stick of 

1 Toulan, Lepitre, Vincent, Bruno, and others. 



THE DAUPHIN TAKEN FROM THE QUEEN 419 

sealing-wax from my aunt, and from me une sacre cceur de Jesus and a 
prayer for the welfare of France. The search lasted from half-past ten 
at night till four o'clock in the morning." The next visit of the officials 
was to Madame Elizabeth alone ; they found in her room a hat which 
the King had worn during his imprisonment, and which she had begged 
him to give her as a souvenir. They took it from her in spite of her 
entreaties : "It was suspicious," said the cruel and contemptible 
tyrants. 

The' Dauphin became ill with fever, and it was long before his 
mother, who watched by him night and day, could obtain medicine or 
advice for him. "When Thierry was at last allowed to see him his 
treatment relieved the most violent symptoms, but, says Madame 
Royale, **his health was never re-established. Want of air and 
exercise did him great mischief, as well as the kind of life which this 
poor child led, who at eight years old passed his days amidst the tears 
of his friends, and in constant anxiety and agony. " 

While the Dauphin's health was causing his family such alarm they 
were deprived of the services of Tison's wife, who became ill, and 
finally insane, and was removed to the Hotel Dieu, where her ravings 
were reported to the Assembly and made the ground of accusations 
against the royal prisoners.^ No woman took her place, and the 
Princesses themselves made their beds, swept their rooms, and waited 
upon the Queen. 

Far worse punishments than menial work were prepared for them. 
On 3d July a decree of the Convention ordered that the Dauphin 
should be separated from his family and " placed in the most secure 
apartment of the Tower." As soon as he heard this decree pronounced, 
says his sister, " he threw himself into my mother's arms, and with 
violent cries entreated not to be parted from her. My mother would 
not let her son go, and she actually defended against the efforts of the 

^ This woman, troubled by remorse, lost her reason, threw herself at 
the feet of the Queen, implored her pardon, and disturbed the Temple 
for many days with the sight and the noise of her madness. The Princesses, 
forgetting the denunciations of this unfortunate being, in consideration of 
her repentance and insanity, watched over her by turns, and deprived 
themselves of their own food to relieve her. — Lamartine, History of the 
Girondists, vol. iii. p. 140. The first time Tison's wife showed signs of 
madness, "she began to talk to herself, " says Madame Royale simply; 
"alas ! that made me laugh ; and my poor mother and aunt looked at 
me as though they saw with pleasure that short moment of gaiety." 



420 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

officers the bed in which she had placed him. The men threatened to 
call up the guard and use violence. My mother exclaimed that they 
had better kill her than tear her child from her. At last they threat- 
ened our lives, and my mother's maternal tenderness forced her to the 
sacrifice. My aunt and I dressed the child, for my poor mother had 
no longer strength for anything. Nevertheless, when he was dressed, 
she took him up in her arms and delivered him herself to the officers, 
bathing him with her tears, foreseeing that she was never to behold him 
again. The poor little fellow embraced us all tenderly, and was 
carried away in a flood of tears. My mother's horror was extreme 
when she heard that Simon, a shoemaker by trade, whom she had seen 
as a municipal officer in the Temple, was the person to whom her 
child was confided. . . . The officers now no longer remained in my 
mother's apartment ; they only came three times a day to bring our 
meals and examine the bolts and bars of our windows ; we were locked 
up together night and day. We often went up to the Tower, because 
my brother went, too, from the other side. The only pleasure my 
mother enjoyed was seeing him through a crevice as he passed at a 
distance: She would watch for hours together to see him as he passed. 
It was her only hope, her only thought." 

The Queen was soon deprived even of this melancholy consolation. 
On 1st August 1793 it was resolved that she should be tried. Robes- 
pierre opposed the measure, but Barere roused into action that deep- 
rooted hatred of the Queen which not even the sacrifice of her life 
availed to eradicate. *' Why do the enemies of the Republic still 
hope for success?" he asked. " Is it because we have too long for- 
gotten the crimes of the Austrian ? The children of Louis the Con- 
spirator are hostages for the Republic . . . but behind them lurks 
a woman who has been the cause of all the disasters of France."^ 
At two o'clock on the morning of the following day the municipal 
officers "awoke us," says Madame Royale, "to read to my mother 
the decree of the Convention, which ordered her removal to the Con- 
ciergerie,2 preparatory to her trial. She heard it without visible emo- 
tion, and without speaking a single word. My aunt and I immedi- 
ately asked to be allowed to accompany my mother, but this favour 

1 Alison's History of Europe, vol. ill. p. 162. 

2 The Conciergerie was originally, as its name implies, the porter's 
lodge of the ancient Palace of Justice, and became in time a prison, from 
the custom of confining there persons who had committed trifling offences 
about the Court. 



THE QUEEN IN THE CONCIERGERIE 421 

was refused us. All the time my mother was making up a bundle of 
clothes to take with her, these officers never left her. She was even 
obliged to dress herself before them, and they asked for her pockets, 
taking away the trifles they contained. She embraced me, charging 
me to keep up my spirits and my courage, to take tender care of my 
aunt, and obey her as a second mother. She then threw herself into 
my aunt's arms, and recommended her children to her care ; my aunt 
replied to her in a whisper, and she was then hurried away. In leav- 
ing the Temple she struck her head against the wicket, not having 
Stooped low enough.! The officers asked whether she had hurt herself. 
' No,' she replied, * nothing can hicrt me now.'' " 

The Last Moments of Marie Antoinette. 

We have already seen what changes had been made in the Temple. 
Marie Antoinette had been separated from her sister, her daughter, 
and her son, 2 by virtue of a decree which ordered the trial and exile of 
the last members of the family of the Bourbons. She had been re- 
moved to the Conciergerie, and there alone in a narrow prison she 
was reduced to what was strictly necessary, like the other prisoners. 
The imprudence of a devoted friend had rendered her situation still 
more irksome. Michonnis, a member of the municipality, in whom 
she had excited a warm interest, was desirous of introducing to her a 
person who, he said, wished to see her out of curiosity. This man, a 
courageous emigrant, threw to her a carnation, in which was enclosed 
a slip of very fine paper with these words : " Your friends are ready " 
— false hope, and equally dangerous for her who received and for him 
who gave it ! Michonnis and the emigrant were detected, and forth- 
with apprehended ; and the vigilance exercised in "regard to the un- 
fortunate prisoner became from that day more rigorous than ever.^ 

! Mathieu, the gaoler, used to say, ' ' I make Madame Veto and her 
sister and daughter, proud though they are, salute me ; for the door is so 
low they cannot pass without bowing." 

2 The Queen's separation from her son, for whose sake alone she had 
consented to endure the burden of existence, was so touching, so heart- 
rending, that the very gaolers who witnessed the scene confessed when 
giving an account of it to the authorities that they could not refrain from 
tears. — Weber's Memoirs of Marie Antoinette. 

2 The Queen was lodged in a room called the council chamber, which 
was considered as the most unwholesome apartment in the Conciergerie on 
account of its dampness and the bad smells by which it was continually 



422 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Gendarmes were to mount guard incessantly at the door of her prison, 
and they were expressly forbidden to answer anything that she might 
say to them. 

That wretch Hebert, the deputy of Chaumette, and editor of 
the disgusting paper Pire Duchene, a writer of the party of which 
Vincent, Ronsin, Varlet, and Leclerc were the leaders — Hebert had 
made it his particular business to torment the unfortunate remnant of 
the dethroned family. He asserted that the family of the tyrant ought 
not to be better treated than any sans-culotte family ; and he had 
caused a resolution to be passed by which the sort of luxury in which 
the prisoners in the Temple were maintained was to be suppressed. 
They were no longer to be allowed either poultry or pastry ; they 
were reduced to one sort of aliment for breakfast, and to soup or broth 
and a single dish for dinner, to two dishes for supper and half a bottle 
of wine apiece. Tallow candles were to be furnished instead of wax,' 
pewter instead of silver plate, and delft ware instead of porcelain. 
The wood and water carriers alone were permitted to enter their room, 
and that only accompanied by two commissioners. Their food was to 
be introduced to them by means- of a turning box. The numerous 
establishment was reduced to a cook and an assistant, two men-servants, 
and a woman-servant to attend to the* linen. 

As soon as this resolution was passed Hebert had repaired to the 
Temple and inhumanly taken away from the unfortunate prisoners 
even the most trifling articles to which they attached, a high value. 
Eighty louis which Madame Elizabeth had in reserve, and. which she 
had received from Madame de Lamballe, were also taken away. No 
one is more dangerous, more cruel, than the man without acquirements, 
without education, clothed with a recent authority. If, above all, he 
possess a base nature, if, like Hebert, who was check-taker at the door 
of a theatre, and embezzled money out of the receipts, he be destitute 

affected. Under pretence of giving her a person to wait upon her they 
placed near her a spy — a man of a horrible countenance and hollow 
sepulchral voice. This wretch, whose name was Barassin, was a robbe 
and murderer by profession. Such was the chosen attendant on the Queen 
of France ! A few days before her trial this wretch was removed and a 
gendarme placed in her chamber, who watched over her night and day, 
and from whom she was not separated, even when in bed, but by a ragged 
curtain. In this melancholy abode Marie Antoinette had no other dress 
than an old black gown, stockings with holes, which she was forced to 
mend every day ; and she was entirely destitute of shoes. — Du Broca. 



TRIAL OF THE QUEEN 423 

of natural morality, and if he leap all at once from the mud of his con- 
dition into power, he is as mean as he is atrocious. Such was Hebert 
in his conduct at the Temple. He did not confine himself to the 
annoyances which we have mentioned. He and some others conceived 
the idea of separating the young Prince from his aunt and sister. A 
shoemaker named Simon and his wife were the instructors to whom it 
was deemed right to consign him for the purpose of giving him a sans- 
culotte education. Simon and his wife were shut up in the Temple, 
and, becoming prisoners with the unfortunate child, were directed to 
bring him up in their own way. Their food was better than that of 
the Princesses, and they shared the table of the municipal commission- 
ers who were on duty. Simon was permitted to go down, accom- 
panied by two commissioners, to the court of the Temple for the 
purpose of giving the Dauphin a little exercise. 

Hebert conceived the infamous idea of wringing from this boy 
revelations to criminate his unhappy mother. Whether this wretch 
imputed to the child false revelations or abused his tender age and his 
condition to extort from him what admissions soever he pleased, he 
obtained a revolting deposition ; and as the youth of the Prince did 
not admit of his being brought before the tribunal Hebert appeared 
and detailed the infamous particulars which he had himself either dic- 
tated or invented. 

It was on the 14th of October that Marie Antoinette appeared 
before her judges. Dragged before the sanguinary tribunal by inexor- 
able revolutionary vengeance, she appeared there without any chance 
of acquittal, for it was not to obtain her acquittal that the Jacobins 
had brought her before it. It was necessary, however, to make some 
charges. Fouquier therefore collected the rumours current among the 
populace ever since the arrival of the Princess in France, and, in the 
act of accusation, he charged her with having plundered the exchequer, 
first for her pleasures, and afterwards in order to transmit money to 
her brother the Emperor. He insisted on the scenes of the 5th and 
6th of October, and on" the dinners of the life-guards, alleging that she 
had at that period framed a plot, which obliged the people to go to 
Versailles to frustrate it. He afterwards accused her of having 
governed her husband, interfered in the choice of ministers, conducted 
the intrigues with the deputies gained by the Court, prepared the 
journey to Varennes, provoked the war, and transmitted to the enemy's 
generals all our plans of campaign. He further accused her of having 
prepared a new conspiracy on the loth of August, of having on that 
day caused the people to be fired upon, of having induced her husband 



424 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

to defend himself by taxing him with cowardice ; lastly, of having 
never ceased to plot and correspond with foreigners since her captivity 
in the Temple, and of having there treated her young son as King. 
We here observe how, on the terrible day of long-deferred vengeance, 
when subjects at length break forth and strike such of their princes as 
have not deserved the blow, everything is distorted and converted into 
crime. We see how the profusion and fondness for pleasure, so natural 
to a young Princess, how her attachment to her native country, her 
influence over her husband, her regrets, always more indiscreet in a 
woman than a man, nay, even her bolder courage, appeared to their 
inflamed or malignant imaginations. 

It was necessary to produce witnesses. Lecointre, deputy of Ver- 
sailles, who had seen what had passed on the 5 th and 6th of October, 
Hebert, who had frequently visited the Temple, various clerks in the 
ministerial offices, and several domestic servants of the old Court, 
were summoned. Admiral d'Estaing, formerly commandant of the 
guard of Versailles ; Manuel, the ex-procureur of the commune ; 
Latour-du-Pin, minister at war in 1 789 ; the venerable Bailly, who, 
it was said, had been, with La Fayette, an accomplice in the journey 
to Varennes ; lastly, Valaze, one of the Girondists destined to the 
scaffold, — were taken from their prisons and compelled to give 
evidence. 

No precise fact was elicited. Some had seen the Queen in high 
spirits when the life-guards testified their attachment ; others had seen 
her vexed and dejected while being conducted to Paris, or brought 
back from Varennes ; these had been present at splendid festivities 
which must have cost enormous sums ; those had heard it said in the 
ministerial offices that the Queen was adverse to the sanction of the 
decrees. An ancient waiting-woman of the Queen had heard the Due 
de Coigny say, in j 788, that the Emperor had already received two 
hundred millions from France to make war upon the Turks. 

The cynical Hebert, being brought before the unfortunate Queen, 
dared at length to prefer the charges wrung from the young Prince. 
He said that Charles Capet had given Simon an account of the journey 
to Varennes, and mentioned La Fayette and Bailly as having co- 
operated in it. He then added that this boy was addicted to odious 
and very premature vices for his age ; that he had been surprised by 
Simon, who, on questioning him, learned that he derived from his 
mother the vices in which he indulged. Hebert said that it was no 
doubt the intention of Marie Antoinette, by weakening thus early the 
physical constitution of her son, to secure to herself the means of ruling 



CHIVALRY OF D'ESTAING 425 

him in case he should ever ascend the throne. The rumours which 
had been whispered for twenty years by a malicious Court had given 
the people a most unfavourable opinion of the morals of the Queen. 
That audience, however, though wholly Jacobin, was disgusted at the 
accusations of Hebert.^ He nevertheless persisted in supporting them. 2 
The unhappy mother made no reply. Urged anew to explain herself, 
she said with extraordinary emotion, " I thought that human nature 
would excuse me from answering such an imputation, but I appeal from 
it to the heart of every mother here present." This noble and simple 
reply affected all who heard it. 

In the depositions of the witnesses, however, all was not so bitter 
for Marie Antoinette. The brave d'Estaing, whose enemy she had 
been, would not say anything to inculpate her, and spoke only of the 
courage which she had shown on the 5 th and 6th of October, and of 
the noble resolution which she had expressed, to die beside her hus- 
band rather than fly. Manuel, in spite of his enmity to the Court 
during the time of the Legislative Assembly, declared that he could not 
say anything against the accused. When the venerable Bailly was 
brought forward, who formerly had so often predicted to the Court the 
calamities which its imprudence must produce, he appeared painfully 
affected ; and when he was asked if he knew the wife of Capet, " Yes," 
said he, bowing respectfully, " I have known Mada?ne.^' He declared 
that he knew nothing, and maintained that the declarations extorted 
from the young Prince relative to the journey to Varennes were false. 
In recompense for his deposition he was assailed with outrageous re- 
proaches, from which he might judge what fate would soon be awarded 
to himself. 



^ Can there be a more infernal invention than that made against 
the Queen by Hebert — namely, that she had had an improper intimacy 
with her own son ? He made use of this sublime idea of which he boasted 
in order to prejudice the women against the Queen, and to prevent her 
execution from exciting pity. It had, however, no other effect than that 
of disgusting all parties. — Prudhomme. 

2 Hebert did not long survive her in whose sufferings he had taken 
such an infamous part. He was executed on 26th March 1794. ' ' Hu- 
bert," says the Rafport d'un Ditenu dans les Prisons, " montra jusqu'au 
bout une extreme faiblesse. Pendant le trajet de la Conciergerie a I'dcha- 
faud, le spectacle de son agonie empScha que Ton pr^t ^tre attentif, a 
la contenance de ses compagnons. La derniere nuit dans la prison il a 
eu des acc^s de d^sespoir." 



426 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

In the whole of the evidence there appeared but two serious facts, 
attested by Latour-du-Pin and Valaze, who -deposed to them because 
they could not help it. Latour-du-Pin declared that Marie Antoinette 
had applied to him for an accurate statement of the armies while he 
was minister at war. Valaze, always cold, but respectful towards mis- 
fortune, would not say anything to criminate the accused ; yet he 
could not help declaring that, as a member of the commission of 
twenty-four, being charged with his colleagues to examine the papers 
found at the house of Septeuil, treasurer of the civil list, he had seen 
bonds for various sums signed Antoinette, which was very natural ; but 
he added that he had also seen a letter in which the minister requested 
the King to transmit to the Queen the copy of the plan of campaign 
which he had in his hands. The most unfavourable construction was 
immediately put upon these two facts, the application for a statement 
of the armies, and the communication of the plan of campaign ; and it 
was concluded that they could not be wanted for any other purpose 
than to be sent to the enemy ; for it was not supposed that a young 
Princess should turn her attention, merely for her own satisfaction, to 
matters of administration and military plans. After these depositions, 
several others were received respecting the expenses of the Court, the 
influence of the Queen in public affairs, the scene of the loth of August, 
and what had passed in the Temple ; and the most vague rumours and 
most trivial circumstances were eagerly caught at as proofs .^ 

Marie Antoinette frequently repeated with presence of mind and 
firmness that there was no precise fact against her ; 2 that, besides, 
though the wife of Louis XVI., she was not answerable for any of the 
acts of his reign. Fouquier nevertheless declared her to be sufficiently 
convicted ; Chaveau-Lagarde made unavailing efforts to defend her ; 

1 Yet even Robespierre, so inveterate against the King, would have 
saved the Queen. *"' Revolutions are very cruel," he said. " They regard 
neither sex nor age. Ideas are pitiless, but the people should also know 
how to forgive. If my head were not necessary to the Revolution, there 
are moments when I would offer that head to the people in exchange for 
one of those which they demand of us." — Lamartine's Girondists, vol. iii. 

p. 137- 

2 At first the Queen, consulting only her own sense of dignity, had 
resolved on her trial to make no other reply to the questions of her judges 
than — " Assassinate me as you have already assassinated my husband ! " 
Afterwards, however, she determined to follow the example of the King, 
exert herself in her defence, and leave her judges without any excuse or 
pretext for putting her to death. — Weber's Memoirs of Marie Antoinette. 



EXECUTION OF THE QUEEN 427 

and the unfortunate Queen was condemned to suffer the same fate as 
her husband. 

Conveyed back to the Conciergerie, she there passed in tolerable 
composure the night preceding her execution, and, on the morning of 
the following day, the 1 6th of October,^ she was conducted, amidst a 
great concourse of the populace, to the fatal spot where, ten months 
before, Louis XVI. had perished. She listened with calmness to the 
exhortations of the ecclesiastic who accompanied her, and cast an 
indifferent look at the people who had so often applauded her beauty 
and her grace, and who now as warmly applauded her execution. On 
reaching the foot of the scaffold she perceived the Tuileries, and 
appeared to be moved ; but she hastened to ascend the fatal ladder, 
and gave herself up with courage to the executioner. ^ The infamous 
wretch exhibited her head to the people, as he was accustomed to do 
when he had sacrificed an illustrious victim. ^ 

The Last Separation — Execution of Madame Elizabeth — 
Death of the Dauphin. 

The two Princesses left in the Temple were now almost inconsol- 

.1 The Queen, after having written and prayed, slept soundly for some 
hours. On her waking, Bault's daughter dressed her and adjusted her 
hair with more neatness than on other days. Marie Antoinette wore a 
white gown, a white handkerchief covered her shoulders, a white cap her 
hair ; a black ribbon bound this cap round her temples. . . . The cries, 
the looks, the laughter, the jests of the people overwhelmed her with humili- 
ation ; her colour, changing continually from purple to paleness, betrayed 
her agitation. ... On reaching the scaffold she inadvertently trod on the 
executioner's foot. "Pardon me," she said courteously. She knelt for 
an instant and uttered a half- audible prayer ; then rising and glancing 
towards the towers of the Temple — "Adieu, once again, my children," 
she said, " I go to rejoin your father." — Lamartine. 

2 Sorrow had blanched the Queen's once beautiful hair ; but her 
features and air still commanded the admiration of all who beheld her ; her 
cheeks, pale and emaciated, were occasionally tinged with a vivid colour 
at the mention of those she had lost. When led out to execution, she was 
dressed in white ; she had cut off her hair with her own hands. Placed 
in a tumbrel, with her arms tied behind her, she was taken by a circuitous 
route to the Place de la Revolution, and she ascended the scaffold with a 
firm and dignified step, as if she had been about to take her place on a 
throne by the side of her husband. — Lacretelle. 

^ Thiers, French Revolution, vol. iii. p. 2.2,^' et seq. 



428 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

able ; they spent days and nights in tears, whose only alleviation was 
that they were shed together. "The company of my aunt whom I 
loved so tenderly," says Madame Royale, "was a great comfort to me. 
But alas ! all that I loved was perishing around me, and I was soon 
to lose her also. ... In the beginning of September I had an illness 
caused solely by my anxiety about my mother ; I never heard a drum 
beat that I did not expect another 3d of September. "^ In the course 
of the month the rigour of their captivity was much increased. The 
Commune ordered that they should only have one room ; that Tison 
(who had done the heaviest of the household work for them, and since 
the kindness they showed to his insane wife had occasionally given them 
tidings of the Dauphin) should be imprisoned in the turret ; that they 
should only be supplied with the barest necessaries ; and that no one 
should enter their room save to carry water and firewood. Their 
quantity of firing was reduced, and they were not allowed candles. 
They were also forbidden to go on the leads, and their large sheets 
were taken away, *'lest" — notwithstanding the gratings! — "they 
should escape from the windows." 

On 8th October 1793 Madame Royale was ordered to go dovO'n- 
stairs that she might be interrogated by some municipal officers. 
"My aunt, who was greatly affected, would have followed, but they 
stopped her. She asked whether I should be permitted to come up 
again; Chaumette assured her that I should. *You may trust,' said 
he, ' the word of an honest republican. She shall return. ' I soon 
found myself in my brother's room, whom I embraced tenderly ; but 
we were torn asunder, and I was obliged to go into another room. 2 
. . . Chaumette then questioned me about a thousand shocking things 
of which they accused my mother and aunt ; I was so indignant at 
hearing such horrors that, terrified as I was, I could not help exclaim- 
ing that they were infamous falsehoods. But in spite of my tears they 
still pressed their questions. There were some things which I did not 
comprehend, but of which I understood enough to make me weep with 
indignation and horror. . . . They then asked me about Varennes, 
and other things. I answered as well as I could without implicating 
anybody. I had always heard my parents say that it were better to 
die than to implicate anybody." When the examination was over the 



1 When the head of the Princesse de Lamballe was carried to the 
Temple. 

2 This was the last time the brother and sister met. 



DEATH OF THE DUG U ORLEANS 429 

Princess begged to be allowed to join her mother, but Chaumette said 
he could not obtain permission for her to do so. She was then 
cautioned to say nothing about her examination to her aunt, who was 
next to appear before them. Madame Elizabeth, her niece declares, 
"replied with still more contempt to their shocking questions." 

The only intimation of the Queen's fate which her daughter and 
her sister-in-law were allowed to receive was through hearing her sen- 
tence cried by the newsman. But, " we could not persuade ourselves 
that she was dead," writes Madame Royale. "A hope, so natural to 
the unfortunate, persuaded us that she must have been saved. For 
eighteen months I remained in this cruel suspense. We learnt also by 
the cries of the newsman the death of the Due d' Orleans.^ It was the 
only piece of news that reached us during the whole winter. " The 
severity with which the prisoners were treated was carried into every 
detail of their life. The officers who guarded them took away their 
chessmen and cards because some of them were named kings and 
queens, and all the books with coats of arms on them ; they refused to 
get ointment for a gathering on Madame Elizabeth's arm ; they would 
not allow her to make a herb-tea which she thought would strengthen 
her niece ; they declined to supply fish or eggs on fast days or during 
Lent, bringing only coarse fat meat, and brutally replying to all remon- 
strances, "None but fools believe in that stuff nowadays." Madame 



^ The Due d' Orleans, the early and interested propagator of the 
Revolution, was its next victim. Billaud Varennes said in the Convention, 
"The time has come when all the conspirators should be known and 
struck. I demand that we no longer pass over in silence a man whom we 
seem to have forgotten, despite the numerous facts against him. I demand 
that D' Orleans be sent to the Revolutionary Tribunal." The Convention, 
once his hireling adulators, unanimously supported the proposal. In vain 
he alleged his having been accessory to the disorders of 5th October, his 
support of the revolt on loth August 1792, his vote against the King on 
17th January 1793. His condemnation was pronounced. He then asked 
only for a delay of twenty-four hours, and had a repast carefully prepared, 
on which he feasted with avidity. When led out for execution he gazed 
with a smile on the Palais Royal, the scene of his former orgies. He was 
detained for a quarter of an hour before that palace by the order of Robes- 
pierre, who had asked his daughter's hand, and promised in return to 
excite a tumult in which the Duke's hfe should be saved. Depraved 
though he was, he would not consent to such a sacrifice, and he met his 
fate with stoical fortitude. — Alison, vol. iii. p. 172. 



430 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

Elizabeth never made the officials another request, but reserved some 
of the bread and cafe-aii-lait from her breakfast for her second meal.l 
The time during which she could be thus tormented was growing 
short. 

On 9th May 1794,35 the Princesses were going to bed, the outside 
bolts of the door were unfastened and a loud knocking was heard. 
" When my aunt was dressed," says Madame Royale, " she opened the 
door, and they said to her, ' Citoyemie^ come down. ' — ' And my 
niece?' — 'We shall take care of her afterwards.' She embraced me, 
and to calm my agitation promised to return. ' No, citoyenne,^ said 
the men, ' bring your bonnet, you shall not return. ' They overwhelmed 
her with abuse, but she bore it patiently, embracing me, and exhorting 
me to trust in Heaven, and never to forget the last commands of my 
father and mother." 

Madame Elizabeth was then taken to the Conciergerie, where she 
was interrogated by the vice-president at midnight, ^ and then allowed 
to take some hours' rest on the bed on which Marie Antoinette had 
slept for the last time. In the morning she was brought before the 
tribunal, with twenty-four other prisoners, of varying ages and both 
sexes, some of whom had once been frequently seen at Court. " Of 
what has Elizabeth to complain ? " Fouquier-Tinville satirically asked ; 
"at the foot of the guillotine, surrounded by faithful nobility, she may 
imagine herself again at Versailles." " You call my brother a tyrant," 
the Princess replied to her accuser, "if he had been what you say, you 
would not be where you are, nor I before you !" She was sentenced 
to death, and showed neither surprise nor grief. " I am ready to die," 
she said, "happy at the prospect of rejoining in a better world those 
whom I loved on earth." ^ On being taken to the room where those 
condemned to suffer at the same time as herself were assembled, she 
spoke to them with so much piety and resignation that they were 
encouraged by her example to shciw calmness and courage like her 
own. The women, on leaving the cart, begged to embrace her, and 
she said some words of comfort to each in turn as they mounted the 
scaffold, which she was not allowed to ascend till all her companions 
had been executed before her eyes.* 

1 Duchesse d'Angouleme, Royal Memoirs, p. 254. 

2 " It has been said," Lamartine observes, "that the day did not con- 
tain sufficient hours for the impatience of the tribunal." 

^ Duchesse d'Angouleme, Royal Memoirs, p. 261. 

^ Madame Elizabeth was one of those rare personages only seen at 



CHARACTER OF MADAME ELIZABETH 431 

" It is impossible to imagine my distress at finding myself separated 
from my aunt," says Madame Royale. "Since I had been able to 
appreciate her merits, I saw in her nothing but. religion, gentleness, 
meekness, modesty, and a devoted attachment to her family ; she sacri- 
ficed her life for them, since nothing could persuade her to leave the 
King and Queen. I never can be sufficiently grateful to her for her 
goodness to me, which ended only with her life. She looked on me 
as her child, and I honoured and loved her as a second mother. I was 
thought to be very like her in countenance, and I feel conscious that I 
have something of her character. Would to God I might imitate her 
virtues, and hope that I may hereafter deserve to meet her, as well as 
my dear parents, in the bosom of our Creator, where I cannot doubt 
that they enjoy the reward of their virtuous lives and meritorioni 
deaths." Madame Royale vainly begged to be allowed to rejoin her 
mother or her aunt, or at least to know their fate. The municipal 
officers would tell her nothing, and rudely refused her request to have 
a woman placed with her. " I asked nothing but what seemed indis- 
pensable, though it was often harshly refused," she says. " But I at 
least could keep myself clean. I had soap and water, and carefully 
swept out my room every day. I had no light, but in the long days I 
did not feel this privation much. ... I had some religious works and 
travels, which I had read over and over. I had also some knitting. 



distant intervals during the course of ages ; she set an example of steadfast 
piety in the palace of kings, she lived amid her family the favourite of all 
and the admiration of the world. . . . When I went to Versailles Madame 
Elizabeth was twenty-two years of age. Her plump figure and pretty 
pink colour must have attracted notice, and her air of calmness and con- 
tentment even more than her beauty. She was fond of billiards, and her 
elegance and courage in riding were remarkable. But she never allowed 
these amusements to interfere with her religious observances. At that 
time her wish to take the veil at Saint Cyr was much talked of, but the 
King was too fond of his sister to endure the separation. There were 
also rumours of a marriage between Madame Elizabeth and the Emperor 
Joseph. The Queen was sincerely attached to her brother, and loved her 
sister-in-law most tenderly ; she ardently desired this marriage as a means 
of raising the Princess to one of the first thrones in Europe, and as a pos- 
sible means of turning the Emperor from his innovations. She had been 
very carefully educated, had talent in music and painting, spoke Italian and 
a litde Latin, and understood mathematics. . . . Her last moments were 
worthy of her courage and virtue. — D'Hdzecques's Recollections, pp. 72-75. 



432 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

qui nUennuyait beaucoup.^^ Once, she believes, Robespierre visited 
her prison :■"• "The officers showed him great respect ; the people in 
the Tower did not know him, or at. least would not tell me who he 
was. He stared insolently at me, glanced at my books, and after 
joining the municipal officers in a search, retired. "^ 

When Laurent was appointed by the Convention to the charge of 
the young prisoners, Madame Royale was treated with more considera- 
tion. " He was always courteous," she says ; he restored her tinder- 
box, gave her fresh books, and allowed her candles and as much 
firewood as she wanted, " which pleased me greatly." This simple 
expression of relief gives a clearer idea of what the delicate girl must 
have suffered than a volume of complaints. 

• But however hard Madame Royale's lot might be, that of the 
Dauphin was infinitely harder. Though only eight years old when 
he entered the Temple, he was by nature and education extremely 
precocious, "his memory retained everything, and his sensitiveness 
comprehended everything." His features " recalled the somewhat 
effeminate look of Louis XV., and the Austrian hauteur of Maria 
Theresa ; his blue eyes, aquiline nose, elevated nostrils, well-defined 
mouth, pouting lips, chestnut hair parted in the middle and falling in 
thick curls on his shoulders, resembled his mother before her years of 
tears and torture. All the beauty of his race, by both descents, 
seemed to reappear in him." ^ For some time the care of his parents 
preserved his health and cheerfulness even in the Temple ; but his 

1 It has been said that Robespierre vainly tried to obtain the hand of 
Mademoiselle d' Orleans. It was also rumoured that Madame Royale her- 
self owed her life to his matrimonial ambition. ' ' Dans ces terns cette 
jeune infortunde n'avait du son salut qu'^ I'ambition de Robespierre. Et 
si sous la r^gne de Ja Terreur elle n'avait point suivie sa famille k I'^cha- 
faud, c'est que ce monstre avait des vues sur elle, et se promettait de 
r^pouser pour affermir sa puissance." — Deux Amis, xiv. 173. 

2 On another occasion " three men in scarves," who entered the Prin- 
cess's room, told her that they did not see why she should wish to be re- 
leased, as she seemed very comfortable ! " ' It is dreadful,' I replied, ' to 
be separated for more than a year from one's mother, without even hear- 
ing what has become of her or of my aunt. ' — • You are not ill ? ' — No, sir, 
but the cruellest illness is that of the heart.' — 'We can do nothing for you. 
Be patient, and submit to the justice and goodness of the French people.' 
I had nothing more to say." — Duchesse d'AngoulSme, Royal Memoirs, 
p. 273. ^ Lamartine. 



PERSECUTION OF THE DAUPHIN 433 

constitution was weakened by the fever recorded by his sister, and his 
gaolers were determined that he should never regain strength. " What 
does the Convention intend to do with him?" asked Simon when the 
innocent victim was placed in his clutches. "Transport him?" — 
*« No."—** Kill him ?»— " No."—" Poison him ?"— '* No."—" What 
then ?" — '* Why, get rid of him.'''' For such a purpose tKey could not 
have chosen their instruments better. *' Simon and his wife cut off all 
those fair locks that had been his youthful glory and his mother's pride. 
This worthy pair stripped him of the mourning he wore for his father ; 
and as they did so they called it * playing at the game of the spoiled 
king. ' They alternately induced him to commit excesses, and then 
half starved him. They beat him mercilessly; nor 'was the treatment 
by night less brutal than that by day. As soon as the weary boy had 
sunk into his first profound sleep, they would loudly call him by name, 
' Capet, Capet. Startled, nervous, bathed in perspiration, or some- 
times trembling with cold, he would spring up, rush through the dark, 
and present himself at Simon's bedside, murmuring tremblingly, * I 
am here, citizen.' 'Come nearer; let me feel you.' He would ap- 
proach the bed as he was ordered, although he knew the treatment 
that awaited him. Simon would buffet him on the head, or kick him 
away, adding the remark, ' Get to bed again, wolfs cub ; I only 
wanted to know that you were safe.' On one of these occasions, when 
the child had fallen half stunned upon his own miserable couch, and 
lay there groaning and faint with pain, Simon roared out with a laugh, 
'Suppose you were king, Capet, what would you do to me?' The 
child thought of his father's dying words, and said, ' I would forgive 
you.' " 1 The change in the young Prince's mode of life and the 
cruelties and caprices to which he was subjected soon made him fall 
ill, says his sister. " Simon forced him to eat to excess, and to drink 
large quantities of wine, which he detested. . . . He grew extremely 
fat without increasing in height or strength. " His aunt and sister, de- 
prived of the pleasure of tending him, had the pain of hearing his 
childish voice raised in the abominable songs his gaolers taught him. 
The brutality of Simon ' ' depraved at once the body and soul of his 
pupil. He called him the young wolf of the Temple. He treated 
him as the young of wild animals are treated when taken from the 
mother and reduced to captivity — at once intimidated by blows and 
enervated by taming. He punished for sensibility; he rewarded 
meanness ; he encouraged vice ; he made the child wait on him at 

1 Thiers. 
28 



434 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

table, sometimes striking him on the face with a knotted towel, some- 
times raising the poker and threatening to strike him with it." ^ 

Yet when Simon was removed ^ the poor young Prince's condition 
became even worse. His horrible loneliness induced an apathetic 
stupor to which any suffering would have been preferable. '* He 
passed his days without any kind of occupation ; they did not allow 
him light in the evening. His keepers never approached him but to 
give him food ;" and on the rare occasions when they took him to the 
platform of the Tower he was unable or unwilling to move about. 
When, in November 1794, a commissary named Gomin arrived at the 
Temple, disposed to treat the little prisoner with kindness, it was too 
late. '* He took extreme care of my brother," says Madame Royale. 
'* For a long time the unhappy child had been shut up in darkness, 
and he was dying of fright. He was very grateful for the attentions 
of Gomin, and became much attached to him." But his physical con- 
dition was alarming, and owing to Gomin's representations a commis- 
sion was instituted to examine him. *' The commissioners appointed 
were Harmond, Mathieu, and Reverchon, who visited ' Louis Charles,' 
as he was now called, in the month of February 1795. They found 
the young Prince seated at a square deal table, at which he was play- 
ing with some dirty cards, making card houses and the like, — the 
materials having been furnished him, probably, that they might figure 
in the report as evidences of indulgence. He did not look up from 
the table as the commissioners entered. He was in a slate-coloured 
dress, bare-headed ; the room was reported as clean, the bed in good 
condition, the linen fresh ; his clothes were also reported as new ; but, 
in spite of all these assertions, it is well known that his bed had not 
been made for months, that he had not left his room, nor was per- 
mitted to leave it, for any purpose whatever, that it was consequently 
uninhabitable, and that he was covered with vermin and with sores. 
The swellings at his knees alone were sufficient to disable him from 
walking. One of the commissioners approached the young Prince 
respectfully. The latter did not raise his head. Harmond in a kind 
voice begged him to speak to them. The eyes of the boy remained 
fixed on the table before him. They told him of the kindly intentions 
of the Government, of their hopes that he would yet be happy, and 

^ Lamartine. 

2 Simon left the Temple to become a municipal ofificer. He was in- 
volved in the overthrow of Robespierre, and guillotined the day afteir him, 
29th July 1794. 



ILLNESS OF THE DAUPHIN 435 

their desire that he would speak unreservedly to the medical man that 
was to visit him. He seemed to listen with profound attention, but 
not a single word passed his lips. It was an heroic principle that im- 
pelled that poor young heart to maintain the silence of a mute in pres- 
ence of these men. He remembered too well .the days when three 
other commissaries waited on him, regaled him with pastry and wine, 
and obtained from him that hellish accusation against the mother that 
he loved. He had learnt by some means the import of the act, so far 
as it was an injury to his mother. He now dreaded seeing again three 
commissaries, hearing again kind words, and being treated again with 
fine promises. Dumb as death itself he sat before them, and remained 
motionless as stone, and as mute. " ^ 

His disease now made rapid progress, and Gomin and Lasne, 
superintendents of the Temple, thinking it necessary to inform the 
Government of the melancholy condition of their prisoner, wrote on 
the register : "Little Capet is unwell." No notice was taken of this 
account, which was renewed next day in more urgent terms : "Little 
Capet is dangerously ill." Still there was no word from beyond the 
walls. " We must knock harder," said the keepers to each other, 
and they added, *' It is feared he will not live," to the words " dan- 
gerously ill." At length on Wednesday, 6th May 1795, three days 
after the first report, the authorities appointed M. Desault to give the 
invalid the assistance of his art. After having written down his name 
on the register he was admitted to see the Prince. He made a long 
and very attentive examination of the unfortunate child, asked him 
many questions without being able to obtain an answer, and contented 
himself with prescribing a decoction of hops, to be taken by spoonfuls 
every half-hour, from six o'clock in the morning till eight in the even- 
ing. On the first day the Prince steadily refused to take it. In vain 
Gomin several times drank off a glass of the potion in his presence ; 
his example proved as ineffectual as his words. Next day Lasne re- 
newed his solicitations. " Monsieur knows very well that I desire 
nothing but the good of his health, and he distresses me deeply by thus 
refusing to take what might contribute to it. I entreat him as a favour 
not to give me this cause of grief " And as Lasne, while speaking, 
began to taste the potion in a glass, the child took what he offered him 
out of his hands. " You have, then, taken an oath that I should 
drink it," said he firmly ; " well, give it me, I will drink it." From 
that moment he conformed with docility to whatever was required of 

1 Thiers. 



436 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

him, but the policy of the Commune had attained its object ; help had 
been withheld till it was almost a mockery to supply it. The Prince's 
weakness was excessive, his keepers could scarcely drag him to the 
top of the Tower ; walking hurt his tender feet, and at every step he 
stopped to press the arm of Lasne with both hands upon his breast, 
At last he suffered so much that it was no longer possible for him to 
walk, and his keeper carried him about, sometimes on the platform, 
and sometimes in the little tower, where the royal family had lived at 
first. But the slight improvement to his health occasioned by the 
change of air scarcely compensated for the pain which his fatigue gave 
him. On the battlement of the platform nearest the left turret the 
rain had, by perseverance through ages, hollowed out a kind of basin. 
The water that fell remained there for several days ; and as, during the 
spring of 1795, storms weLj of frequent occurrence, this little sheet of 
water was kept constantly supplied. Whenever the child was brought 
out upon the platform he saw a little troop of sparrows, which used to 
come to drink and bathe in this reservoir. At first they flew away at 
his approach, but from being accustomed to see him walking quietly 
there every day, they at last grew more familiar, and did not spread 
their wings for flight till he came up close to them. They were always 
the same, he knew them by sight, and perhaps like himself they were 
inhabitants of that ancient pile. He called them his birds ; and his 
first action, when the door into the terrace was opened, was to look 
towards that side, — and the sparrows were always there. He de- 
lighted in their chirping, and he must have envied them their wings ! 

Though so little could be done to alleviate his sufferings, a moral 
improvement was taking place in him. He was touched by the lively 
interest displayed by his physician, who never failed to visit him at 
nine o'clock every morning. He seemed pleased with the attention 
paid him, and ^ended by placing entire confidence in M. Desault. 
Gratitude loosened his tongue ; brutality and insult had failed to extort 
a murmur, but kind treatment restored his speech : he had no words 
for anger, but he found them to express his thanks. M. Desault pro- 
longed his visits as long as the officers of the municipality would per- 
mit. When they announced the close of the visit, the child, unwilling 
to beg them to allow a longer time, held back M. Desault by the skirt 
of his coat. Suddenly M. Desault's visits ceased. Several days 
passed and nothing was heard of him. The keepers wondered at his 
absence, and the poor little invalid was much distressed at it. The 
commissary on duty (M. Benoist) suggested that it would be proper to 
send to the physician's house to make inquiries as to the cause of so 



DEATH OF THE YOUNG PRINCE 437 

long an absence. Gomin and Lasne had not yet ventured to follow 
this advice, when next day M. Benoist was relieved by M. Bidault, 
who hearing M, Desault's name mentioned as he came in, immediately 
said, *'You must not expect to see him anymore; he died yester- 
day." 

M. Pelletan, head surgeon of the Grand Hospice de i'Humanite, 
was next directed to attend the prisoner, and in June he found him in 
so alarming a state that he at once asked for a coadjutor, fearing to 
undertake the responsibility alone. The physician — sent for form's 
sake to attend the dying child, as an advocate is given by law to a 
criminal condemned beforehand — blamed the officers of the municipal- 
ity for not having removed the blind which obstructed the light, and 
the numerous bolts, the noise of which i^ever failed to remind the 
victim of his captivity. That sound, whi-h always caused him an in- - 
voluntary shudder, disturbed him in the last mournful scene of his un- 
paralleled tortures. M. Pelletan said authoritatively to the municipal 
on duty, " If you will not take these bolts and casings away at once, 
at least you can make no objection to our carrying the child into 
another room, for I suppose we are sent here to take charge of him." 
The Prince being disturbed by these words, spoken as they were with 
great animation, made a sign to the physician to come nearer. " Speak 
lower, I beg of you," said he ; "I am afraid they will hear you up- 
stairs, and I should be very soriy for them to know that I am ill, as 
it would give them much uneasiness." 

At first the change to a cheerful and airy room revived the Prince 
and gave him evident pleasure, but the improvement did not last. 
Next day M. Pelletan learned that the Government had acceded to his 
request for a colleague. M. Dumangin, head physician of the Hospice 
de r Unite, made his appearance at his house on the morning of Sunday, 
7 th June, with the official despatch sent him by the committee of public 
safety. They repaired together immediately to the Tower. On their 
arrival they heard that the child, whose weakness was excessive, had 
had a fainting fit, which had occasioned fears to be entertained that his 
end was approaching. He had revived a little, however, when the 
physicians went up at about nine o'clock. Unable to contend with in- 
creasing exhaustion, they perceived there was no longer any hope of 
prolonging an existence worn out by so much suffering, and that all 
their art could effect would be to soften the last stage of this lamentable 
disease. While standing by the Prince's bed, Gomin noticed that he 
was quietly crying, and asked him kindly what was the matter. "I 
am always alone," he said. " My dear mother remains in the other 



438 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

tower." Night came — his last night — which the regulations of the 
prison condemned him to pass once more in solitude, with suftering, his 
old companion, only at his side. This time, however, death too stood 
at his pillow. "When Gomin went up to the child's room on the 
morning of 8th June, he said, seeing him calm, motionless, and mute, 
" I hope you are not in pain just now?" — *' Oh yes, I am still in pain, 
but not nearly so much — the music is so beautiful !" Now there was 
no music to be heard, either in the Tower or anywhere near. Gomin, 
astonished, said to him, " From what direction do you hear this 
music?"— -*' From above!" — '* Have you heard it long?" — "Since 
you knelt down. Do you not hear it ? Listen ! listen ! " And the 
child, with a nervous motion, raised his faltering hand, as he opened 
his large eyes illuminated by delight. His poor keeper, unwilling to 
destroy this last sweet illusion, appeared to listen also. After a few 
minutes of attention the child again started, and cried out in intense 
rapture, "Amongst all the voices I have distinguished that of my 
mother ! " 

These were almost his last words. At a quarter past two ^ he died, 
Lasne only being in the room at the time. Lasne acquainted Gomin 
and Damont, the commissary on duty, with the event, and they 
repaired to the chamber of death. The poor little royal corpse was 
carried from the room into that where he had suffered so long — where 
for two years he had never ceased to suffer. From this apartment the 
father had gc^ne to the scaffold, and thence the son must pass to the 
burial-ground. The remains were laid out on the bed, and the doors 
of the apartment were set open — doors which had remained closed 
ever since the Revolution had seized on a child, then full of vigour and 
grace and life and health ! 

At eight o'clock next morning (9th June) four members of the 
committee of general safety came to the Tower to make sure that the 
Prince was really dead. When they were admitted to the death- 
chamber by Lasne and Damont they affected the greatest indifference. 
"The event is not of the least importance," they repeated, several 
times over ; * * the police commissary of the section will come and 
receive the declaration of the decease ; he will acknowledge it, and 
proceed to the interment without any ceremony ; and the committee 
will give the necessary directions." As they withdrew some officers of 

1 Madame Royale says at three o'clock on 9th June. The confusion 
as to the day and hour probably arose from the death being at first kept 
secret. st 



A ROYAL FUNERAL 439 

the Temple guard asked to see the remains of little Capet. Damont 
having observed that the guard v^^ould not permit the bier to pass 
wdthout its being opened, the deputies decided that the officers and 
non-commissioned officers of the guard going off duty, together with 
those coming on, should be all invited to assure themselves of the child's 
death. All having assembled in the room where the body lay, he 
asked them if they recognised it as that of the ex-Dauphin, son of the 
last King of France. Those who had seen the young prince at the Tuil- 
eries, or at the Temple (and most of them had), bore witness to its being 
the body of Louis XVII. When they were come down into the 
council-room, Darlot drew up the minutes of this attestation, which 
was signed by a score of persons. These minutes were inserted in the 
journal of the Temple tower, which was afterwards deposited in the 
office of the Minister of the Interior. During this visit the surgeons 
entrusted with the autopsy arrived at the outer gate of the Temple. 
These were Dumangin, head physician of the Hospice de 1' Unite ; 
Pelletan, head surgeon of the Grand Hospice de I'Humanite ; Jeanroy, 
professor in the medical schools of Paris ; and Lassus, professor of 
legal medicine at the Nicole de Sante of Paris. The two last were 
selected by Dumangin and Pelletan because of the former connection 
of M. Lassus with Mesdames de France, and of M. Jeanroy with the 
House of Lorraine, which gave a peculiar weight to their signature. 
Gomin received them in the council-room, and detained them until the 
national guard, descending from the second floor, entered to sign the 
minutes prepared by Darlot. This done, Lasne, Darlot, and Bouquet 
went up again with the surgeons, and introduced Whem into the 
apartment of Louis XVI I., whom they at first examined as he lay on 
his deathbed ; but M. Jeanroy, observing that the dim light of this 
room was but little favourable to the accomplishment of their mission, 
the commissaries prepared a table in the first room near the window, 
on which the corpse was laid, and the surgeons began their melancholy 
operation. 

At seven o'clock the police commissary ordered the body to be 
taken up, and that they should proceed to the cemetery. It was the 
season of the longest days, and therefore the interment did not take 
place in secrecy and at night as some misinformed narrators have said 
or written ; it took place in broad daylight, and attracted a great 
concourse of people before the gates of the Temple palace. One of the 
municipals wished to have the coffin carried out secretly by the door 
opening into the chapel enclosure ; but M. Dusser, police commissary, 
who was specially entrusted with the arrangement of the ceremony, 



440 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

opposed this indecorous measure, and the procession passed out 
through the great gate. The crowd that was pressing round was kept 
back, and compelled to keep a line by a tri-coloured ribbon, held at 
short distances by gendarmes. Compassion and sorrow were im- 
pressed on every countenance. A small detachment of the troops of the 
line from the garrison of Paris, sent by the authorities, was waiting to 
serve as an escort. The bier, still covered with the pall, was carried 
on a litter on the shoulders of four men, who relieved each other two 
at a time ; it was preceded by six or eight men, headed by a sergeant. 
The procession was accompanied a long way by the crowd, and a 
great number of persons followed it even to the cemetery. The name 
of " Little Capet," and the more popular title of Dauphin spread from 
lip to lip, with exclamations of pity and compassion. The Funeral 
entered the cemetery of Sainte Marguerite, not by the church, as some 
accounts assert, but by the old gate of the cemetery. The interment 
was made in the corner, on the left, at a distance of eight or nine feet 
from the enclosure wall, and at an equal distance from a small house, 
which subsequently served as a school. The grave was filled up — no 
mound marked its place — and not . even a trace remained of the 
interment ! Not till then did the commissaries of police and the 
municipality withdraw, and enter the house opposite the church to 
draw up the declaration of interment. It was nearly nine o'clock, and 
still daylight. 1 

Release of Madame Roy ale — Her Marriage to the Due 
d'Angouleme — Return to France — Death. 

The last person to hear of the sad events in the Temple was the 
one for whom they had the deepest and most painful interest. After 
her brother's death the captivity of Madame Royale was much lightened. 
She was allowed to walk in the Temple gardens, and to receive visits from 
some ladies of the old Court, and from Madame de Chantereine, who 
at last, after several times evading her questions, ventured cautiously 
to tell her of the deaths of her mother, aunt, and brother. Madame 
Royale wept bitterly, but had much difficulty in expressing her feelings. 
" She spoke so confusedly," says Madame de la Ramiere in a letter to 
Madame de Verneuil, *'that it was difficult to understand her. It 
took her more than a month's reading aloud, with careful study of 

^ Thiers' s History of the French Revolution. 



MADAME ROY ALE LEAVES FRANCE 441 



pronunciation, to make herself intelligible — so much had she lost the 
power of expression." She was dressed with plainness amounting 
to poverty, and her hands were disfigured by exposure to cold and by 
the menial work she had been so long accustomed to do for herself, 
and which it was difficult to persuade her to leave off. When urged 
to accept the services of an attendant, she replied, with a sad prevision 
of the vicissitudes of her future life, that she did not like to form a 
habit which she might have again to abandon. She suffered herself, 
however, to be persuaded gradually to modify her recluse and ascetic 
habits. It was well she did so, as a preparation for the great changes 
about to follow. 

Nine days after the death of her brother the city of Orleans in- 
terceded for the daughter of Louis XVI., and sent deputies to the 
Convention to pray for her deliverance and restoration to her family. 
Nantes followed this example ; and Charette, on the part of the Ven- 
deans, demanded as a condition of the pacification of La Vendee, that 
the Princess should be allowed to join her relations. At length the 
Convention decreed that Madame Royale should be exchanged with 
Austria for the representatives and ministers whom Dumouriez had 
given up to the Prince of Cobourg — Drouet, Semonville, Maret, and 
other prisoners of importance. At midnight on 19th December 1795, 
which was her birthday, the Princess was released from prison, the 
Minister of the Interior, M. Benezech, to avoid attracting public 
attention and possible disturbance, conducting her on foot from the 
Temple to a neighbouring street, where his carriage awaited her.i She 
made it her particular request that Gomin, who had been so devoted to 
her brother, should be the commissary appointed to accompany her 
to the frontier; Madame de Soucy, formerly under - governess to the 
children of France, was also in attendance ; and the Princess took with 
her a dog named Coco, which had belonged to Louis XVI. 2 She was 

1 A short time after Madame Royale left the Temple, Roederer, who 
had voted for the death of the King, entered her room, and looked 
curiously round. Some lines pencilled on the wall caught his eye : the 
first inscription he read was, " O my father, watch over me from your 
place in heaven !" the second, " O God, pardon those through whom my 
parents died ! " He gazed for a moment stupefied, and then rushed out 
of the apartment, impelled, he confesses in his Memoirs, by the fiercest 

remorse. Filia Dolorosa: Memoirs of the Duchesse d' Angouleme ; Bentley, 

1852, vol. i. p. 355. 

2 The mention of the Httle dog taken from the Temple by Madame 



442 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

frequently recognised on her way through France, and always with 
marks of pleasure and respect. 

It might have been supposed that the Princess would rejoice to 
leave behind her the country which had been the scene of so many 
horrors and such bitter suffering. But it was her birthplace, and it 
held the graves of all she loved ; and as she crossed the frontier she 
said to those around her, *' I leave France with regret, for I shall never 
cease to consider it my country." She arrived in Vienna on 9th January 
1796, and her first care was to attend a memorial service for her 
murdered relatives^ After many weeks of close retirement she occasion- 
ally began to appear in public, and people looked with interest at the 
pale grave slender girl of seventeen, dressed in the deepest mourning, 
over whose young head such terrible storms had swept. The Emperor 
wished her to marry the Archduke Charles of Austria, but her father 
and mother had, even in the cradle, destined her hand for her cousin, 
the Due d'Angouleme, son of the Comte d'Artois, and the memory of 
their lightest wish was law to her. 

Her quiet determination entailed anger and opposition amounting 
to persecution. Every effort was made to alienate her from her French 
relations. She was urged to claim Provence, which had become her 
own if Louis XVIII. was to be considered King of France. A pressure 
of opinion was brought to bear upon her which might well have over- 
awed so young a girl. " I was sent for to the Emperor's cabinet," she 
writes, " where I found the Imperial family assembled. The ministers 
and chief imperial counsellors were also present. . . . When the 
Emperor invited me to express my opinion, I answered that to be able 
to treat fittingly of such interests I thought I ought to be surrounded 
not only by my mother's relatives, but also by those of my father. . . . 
Besides, I said, I am above all things French, and in entire subjection 



Royale reminds me how fond all the family were of these creatures. Each 
Princess kept a different kind. Mesdames had beautiful spaniels, little gray- 
hounds were preferred by Madame Elizabeth. Louis XVI. was the only 
one of all his family who had no dogs in his room. I remember one day 
waiting in the great gallery for the King's retiring, when he entered with 
all his family and the whole pack, who were escorting him. All at once 
all the dogs began to bark, one louder than another, and ran away, pass- 
ingilike ghosts along those great dark rooms, which rang with their hoarse 
cries. The Princesses shouting, calling them, running everywhere after 
them, completed a ridiculous spectacle, which made those august persons 
very merry, — D'Hdzecques, p. 49. 



MEETING WITH LOUIS XVIII. 443 



to the laws of France, which had rendered me alternately the subject 
of the King my father, the King my brother, and the King my uncle, 
and that I would yield obedience to the latter, whatever might be his 
commands. This declaration appeared very much to dissatisfy all who . 
were present, and when they observed that I was not to be shaken, 
they declared that my right being independent of my will, my resistance 
would not be the slightest obstacle to the measures they might deem it 
necessary to adopt for the preservation of my interests." In their 
anxiety to make a German Princess of Marie Therese her Imperial 
relations suppressed her French title as much as possible. When, with 
some difficulty, the Due de Grammont succeeded in obtaining an 
audience of her, and used the familiar form of address, she smiled 
faintly, and bade him beware. " Call me Madame de Bretagne, or de 
Bourgogne, or de Lorraine," she said, "for here I am so identified 
with these provinces 1 that I shall end in believing in my own trans- 
formation." After these discussions she was so closely watched, and so 
many restraints were imposed upon her, that she was scarcely less a 
prisoner than in the old days of the Temple, though her cage was this 
time gilded. Rescue, however, was at hand. In 1798 Louis XVIII. 
accepted a refuge offered to him at Mittau by the Czar Paul, who had 
promised that he would grant his guest's first request, whatever it might 
be. Louis begged the Czar to use his influence with the Court of 
Vienna to allow his niece to join him. "Sir, my brother," was Paul's 
answer, " Madame Royale shall be restored to you, or I shall cease to 
be Paul I." 2 Next morning the Czar despatched a courier to Vienna 
with a demand for the Princess, so energetically worded that refusal 
must have been followed by war. Accordingly, in May 1799, Madame 
Royale was allowed to leave the capital which she had found so uncon- 
genial an asylum. 

In the old ducal castle of Mittau, the capital of Courland, Louis 
XVIII. and his wife, with their nephews the Dues d'Angouleme^ and 

1 Which the Emperor wished her to claim from her uncle Louis XVIIL 

2 Filia Dolorosa, vol. ii. p. 12. 

3 The Due d'Angoul^me was quiet and reserved. He loved hunting 
as a means of killing time ; was given to early hours and innocent pleasures. 
He was a gentleman, and brave as became one. He had not the ' ' gentle- 
manly vices " of his brother, and was all the better for it. He was ill 
educated, but had natural good sense, and would have passed for having 
more than that had he cared to put forth pretensions. Of all his family 
he was the one most ill spoken of, and least deserving of it. — Dr. Doran. 



444 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

de Berri, were awaiting her, attended by the Abbe Edgeworth, as 
chief ecclesiastic, and a little Court of refugee nobles and officers. 
With them were two men of humbler position, who must have been 
even more welcome to Madame Royale — De Maiden, who had acted 
as courier to Louis XVI. during the flight to Varennes, and Turgi, who 
had waited on the Princesses in the Temple. It was a sad meeting, 
though so long anxiously desired, and it was followed on loth June 
1799 by an equally sad wedding — exiles, pensioners on the bounty of 
the Russian monarch, fulfilling an engagement founded not on personal 
preference but on family policy and reverence for the wishes of the 
dead, the bride and bridegroom had small cause for rejoicing. During 
the eighteen months of tranquil seclusion which followed her marriage 
the favourite occupation of the Duchess was visiting and relieving the 
poor. In January 1801 the Czar Paul, in compliance with the demand 
of Napoleon, who was just then the object of his capricious enthusiasm, 
ordered the French royal family to leave Mittau. Their wanderings 
commenced on the 2 1st, a day of bitter memories ; and the young 
Duchess led the King to his carriage through a crowd of men, women, 
and children, whose tears and blessings attended them on their way.^ 
The exiles asked permission from the King of Prussia to settle in his 
dominions, and while awaiting his answer at Munich they^were painfully 
surprised by the entrance of five old soldiers of noble birth, part of the 
bodyguard they had left behind at Mittau, relying on the protection of 
Paul." The " mad Czar " had decreed their immediate expulsion, and, 
penniless and almost starving, they made their way to Louis XVIII. 
All the money the royal family possessed was bestowed on these faith- 
ful servants, who came to them in detachments for relief, and then the 
Duchess offered her diamonds to the Danish Consul for an advance of 
two thousand ducats, saying she pledged her property ' ' that in our 
common distress it may be rendered of real use to my uncle, his faithful 
servants, and myself." The Duchess's consistent and unselfish kindness 
procured her from the King, and those about him who knew her best, 
the name of " our angel." 

Warsaw was for a brief time the resting-place of the wanderers, but 
there they were disturbed in 1803 by Napoleon's attempt to threaten 
and bribe Louis XVIII. into abdication. It was suggested that refusal 
might bring upon them expulsion from Prussia. "We are accustomed 
to suffering,'-' was the King's answer, "and we do not dread poverty. 

^ The Queen was too ill to travel. The Due d'Angoul^me took another 
route to join a body of French gentlemen in arms for the Legitimist cause. 



COURAGE OF THE DUCHESSE D'ANGOULEME 445 

I would, trusting in God, seek another asylum." In 1808, after many 
changes of scene, this asylum was sought in England, Gosfield Hall, 
Essex, being placed at their disposal by the Marquis of Buckingham. 
From Gosfield, the King moved to Hartwell Hall, a fine old Eliza- 
bethan mansion rented from Sir George Lee for ;;^500 a year. A 
yearly grant of ;!^24,ooo was made to the exiled fam.ily by the British 
Government, out of which a hundred and forty persons were supported, 
the royal dinner-party generally numbering two dozen. At Hartwell, 
as in her other homes, the Duchess was most popular amongst the 
poor. In general society she was cold and reserved, and she disliked 
the notice of strangers. In March 18 14 the Royalist successes at 
Bordeaux paved the way for the restoration of royalty in France, and 
amidst general sjonpathy and congratulation, with the Prince Regent 
himself to wish them good fortune, the King, the Duchess, and their 
suite left Hartwell in April 18 14. The return to France was as 
triumphant as a somewhat half-hearted and doubtful enthusiasm could 
make it, and most of such cordiality as there was fell to the share of 
the Duchess. As she passed to Notre Dame in May 18 14, on enter- 
ing Paris, she was vociferously greeted. The feeling of loyalty, how- 
ever, was not much longer lived than the applause by which it was 
expressed ; the Duchess had scarcely effected one of the strongest wishes 
of her heart — the identification of what remained of her parents' bodies, 
and the magnificent ceremony with which they were removed from the 
cemetery of the Madeleine to the Abbey of Saint Denis — when the 
escape of Napoleon from Elba in February 181 5 scattered the royal 
family and their followers like chaff before the wind. The Due 
d'Angouleme, compelled to capitulate at Toulouse, sailed from Cette in 
a Swedish vessel. The Comte d'Artois, the Due de Berri, and the 
Prince de Conde withdrew beyond the frontier. The King fled from 
the capital. The Duchesse d'Angouleme, then at Bordeaux celebrating 
the anniversary of the Proclamation of Louis XVIIL, alone of all her 
family made any stand against the general panic. Day after day she 
mounted her horse and reviewed the national guard. She made personal 
and even passionate appeals to the officers and men, standing firm, 
and prevailing on a handful of soldiers to remain by her, even when 
the imperialist troops were on the other side of the river and their 
cannon were directed against the square where the Duchess was review- 
ing her scanty followers.^ With pain and difficulty she was convinced 

1 " It was the Duchesse d'Angouleme who saved you," said the gallant 
General Clauzel, after these events, to a Royalist volunteer : "I could not 



446 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE ) 

that resistance was vain ; Napoleon's banner soon floated over Bordeaux ; ' 
the Duchess issued a farewell proclamation to her "brave Bordelais," J 
and on the ist_ April 1815 she started for Pouillac, whence she em- 
barked for Spain. During a brief visit to England she heard that the || 
reign of a hundred days was over, and the 27th of July 181 5 saw '" 
her second triumphal return to the Tuileries. She did not take up ■. 
her abode there with any vuish for State ceremonies or Court gaieties. | 
Her life was as secluded as her position would allow. Her favourite ,; 
retreat was the Pavilion, which had been inhabited by her mother, and ; 
in her little oratory she collected relics of her family, over which on ' 
the anniversaries of their deaths she wept and prayed. In her daily ; 
drives through Paris she scrupulously avoided the spot on which they i 
had suffered ; and the memory of the past seemed to rule all her sad 
and self-denying life, both, in what she did and what she refrained . 
from doing. ^ Her somewhat austere goodness was not of a nature to ; 
make her popular. The few who really understood her loved her, but 
the majority of her pleasure -seeking subjects regarded her either with ' 
ridicule or dread. She is said to have taken no part in politics, and to 
have exerted no influence in public affairs, but her s)Tnpathies were J 
well known, and "the very word liberty made her shudder;" like | 
Madame Roland, she had seen " so many crimes perpetrated under that : 
name." 

The claims of three pretended Dauphins — ^Hervagault, the son of ] 

the tailor of Saint Lo ; Bruneau, son of *the' shoemaker of Vergin ; and \ 
Naundorf or Norndorff, the- watchmaker— -somewhat troubled her 
peace, but never for a moment obtained her sanction. Of the many 
other pseudo-Dauphins (said to number a dozen and a half) not even 
the names remain.^ In February 1820 a fresh tragedy befell the^ 

royal family in the assassination of the Due de Berri, brother-in-law of | 

bring myself to order such a woman to be fired upon, at the moment when j 

she was providing material for the noblest page in her history." — Filia \ 

Dolorosa, vol. ii. p. 131. \ 

^ She was so methodical and economical, though liberal in her charities, ' 

that one of her regular evening occupations was to tear off the seals from j 

the letters she had received during the day, in order that the wax might be ; 

melted down and sold ; the produce made one poor family ' ' passing rich \ 

with forty pounds a year." — See Filia Dolorosa, vol. ii. p. 239. i 

2 Except that of the latest and perhaps best known — Augustus M6ves. 
^0.^ Memoirs of Louis Charles, Dauphin of France : Ridgway, 1868; and 

The Dauphin, Louis XVI L: Bentley, 1876. ' 



FAREWELL TO FRANCE 447 

the Duchesse d'Angouleme, as he was seeing his wife into her carriage 
at the door of the opera-house. He was carried into the theatre, 
and there the dying Prince and his wife were joined by the Duchess, 
who remained till he breathed his last, and was present when he 
too was laid in the Abbey of Saint Denis. She was present also 
when his son the Due de Bordeaux was born, and hoped that she 
saw in him a guarantee for the stability of royalty in France. In 
September 1824 she stood by the deathbed of Louis XVIII., and 
thenceforward her chief occupation was directing the education of 
the little Due de Bordeaux, who generally resided with her at 
Villeneuve I'Etang, her country house near St. Cloud. Thence she 
went in July 1830 to the Baths of Vichy, stopping at Dijon on her 
way to Paris, and visiting the theatre on the evening of the 27 th. 
She was received with "a roar of execrations and seditious cries," 
and knew only too well what they signified. She instantly left the 
theatre and proceeded to Tonnere, where she received news of the 
rising in Paris, and quitting the town by night was driven to Joigny 
with three attendants. Soon after leaving that place it was thought 
more prudent that the party should separate and proceed on foot, 
and the Duchess and M. de Foucigny, disguised as peasants, entered 
Versailles arm-in-arm, to obtain tidings of the King. The Duchess 
found him at Rambouillet with her husband the Dauphin, and the 
King met her with a request for "pardon," being fully conscious, too 
late, that his unwise decrees and his headlong flight had destroyed the 
last hopes of his family. The Act of Abdication followed, by which 
the prospect of royalty passed from the Dauphin and his wife, as 
well as from Charles X. — Henri V. being proclaimed King, and 
the Due d'Orleans (who refused to take the boy monarch under his 
personal protection) lieutenant-general of the kingdom. 

Then began the Duchess's third expatriation. At Cherbourg the 
royal family, accompanied by the little King without a kingdom, em- 
barked in the Great Britain, which stood out to sea. The Duchess, 
remaining on deck for a last look at the coast of France, noticed a 
brig which kept, she thought, suspiciously near them. "Who com- 
mands that vessel?" she inquired. "Captain Thibault." — "And 
what are his orders?" — "To fire into and sink the vessels in which 
we sail should any attempt be made to return to France." , Such was 
the farewell of their subjects to the House of Bourbon. The fugitives 
landed at Weymouth ; the Duchesse d'Angouleme under the title of 
Comtesse de Marne, the Duchesse de Berri as Comtesse de Rosny, 
and her son Henri de Bordeaux as Comte de Chambord, the title he 



448 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

retained till his death, originally taken from the estate presented to him 
in infancy by his enthusiastic people. Holyrood, with its royal and 
gloomy associations, was their appointed dwelling. The Due and 
Duchesse d'Angouleme, and the daughter of the Due de Berri, travelled 
thither by land, the King and the young Comte de Chambord by sea. 
*' I prefer my route to that of my sister," observed the latter, " because 
I shall see the coast of France again, and she will not." 

The French Government soon complained . that at Holyrood the 
exiles were still too near their native land, and accordingly in 1832 
Charles X., with his son and grandson, left Scotland for Hamburg, 
while the Duchesse d'Angouleme and her niece repaired to Vienna. 
The family were reunited at Prague in 1833, where the birthday 
of the Comte de Chambord was celebrated with some pomp and 
rejoicing, many Legitimists flocking thither to congratulate him 
on attaining the age of thirteen, which the old law of monarchical 
France had fixed as the majority of her princes. Three years later the 
wanderings of the unfortunate family recommenced; the Emperor 
Francis II. was dead, and his successor Ferdinand must visit Prague 
to be 'crowned, and Charles X. feared that the presence of a discrowned 
monarch might be embarrassing on such an occasion. Illness and 
sorrow attended the exiles on their new journey, and a few months 
after they were established in the Chateau of Graffenburg at Goritz, 
Charles X. died of cholera, in his eightieth year. At Goritz, also, on 
31st May 1844, the Duchesse d'Angouleme, who had sat beside so 
many deathbeds, watched over that of her husband. Theirs had not 
been a marriage of affection in youth, but they respected each other's 
virtues, and to a great extent shared each other's tastes ; banishment 
and suffering had united them very closely, and of late years they had 
been almost inseparable — walking, riding, and reading together.^ 
When the Duchesse. d'Angouleme had seen her husband laid by his 
father's side in the vault of the Franciscan convent, she, accompanied 
by her nephew and niece, removed to Frohsdorf, where they spent 
seven tranquil years. Here she was addressed as "Queen" by her 
household for the first time in her life, but she herself always recognised 
Henri, Comte de Chambord, as her sovereign. The Duchess lived to 
see the overthrow of Louis Philippe, the usurper of the inheritance of 
her family. Her last attempt to exert herself was a characteristic one. 
She tried to rise from a sick-bed in order to attend the memorial 



^ See Filia Dolorosa, vol. ii. 



DEATH OF THE DUC HESSE D'ANGOULEME 449 

vice held for her mother, Marie Antoinette, on 1 6th October, the 
anniversary of her execution. But her strength was not equal to 
the task ; on the 19th she expired, with her hand in that of the Comte 
de Chambord, and on 28th October 185 1 Marie Therese Charlotte, 
Duchesse d'Angouleme, was buried in the Franciscan convent. 



The Ceremony of Expiation. 

In the spring of 18 14 a ceremony took place in Paris, at which I 
was present, because there was nothing in it that could be mortifying 
to a French heart. The death of Louis XVI. had long been admitted 
to be one of the most serious misfortunes of the Revolution. The 
Emperor Napoleon never spoke of that sovereign but in terms of the 
highest respect, and always prefixed the epithet unforHmafe to his 
name. The ceremony to which I allude was proposed by the Emperor 
of Russia and the King of Prussia. It consisted of a kind of expiation 
and purification of the spot on which Louis XVI. and his Queen were 
beheaded. I went to see the ceremony, and I had a place at a 
window in the Hotel of Madame de Remusat, next to the Hotel de 
Crillon, and what was termed the Hotel de Courlande. 

The Expiation took place on the loth of April. The weather was 
extremely fine, and warm for the season. The Emperor of Russia and 
King of Prussia, accompanied by Prince Schwartzenberg, took their 
station at the entrance of the Rue Royale ; the King of Prussia being 
on the right of the Emperor Alexander, and Prince Schwartzenberg on 
his left. There was a long parade, during which the Russian, Prussian, 
and Austrian military bands vied with each other in playing the air — 
" Vive Henri IV.!" The cavalry defiled past, and then withdrew 
into the Champs-Elysees ; but the infantry ranged themselves round an 
altar which was raised in the middle of the Place, and which was 
- elevated on a platform having twelve or fifteen steps. The Emperor of 
Russia alighted from his horse, and, followed by the King of Prussia, 
the Grand Duke Constantine, Lord Cathcart, and Prince Schwartzen- 
berg, advanced to the altar. When the Emperor had nearly reached 
the altar the Te Detim commenced. At the moment of the benediction, 
the sovereigns and persons who accompanied them, as well as the 
twenty-five thousand troops who covered the Place, all knelt down. 
The Greek priest presented the cross to the Emperor Alexander, who 
kissed it ; his example was followed by the individuals who accom- 

29 



450 PRIVATE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINh. 

panied him, though they were not of the Greek faith. i Ou rising, the 
Grand Duke Constantine took off his hat, and immediately salvoes of 
artillery were heard. — Memoirs of Mada?ne Jtcnot {Diuhesse d'Aoraftih), 
vol. iii. pp. 416-417 of English edition of 1883. 

^ The King of Prussia was a Protestant, Prince Schwartzenberg a 
Catholic, and the Emperor Alexander belonged to the Greek communion. 



^apartment 
of the interior, 



NOTE 



The following titles have the signification given below 
during the period covered by this work : — 



monseigneur 
Monsieur 

Monsieur le Prince 

Monsieur le Dug 

Monsieur le Grand 

Monsieur le Premier 

Enfans de France 
Madame ) 
Mesdames r 



Madame Elizabeth 
Madame Royale . 

Mademoiselle 



. The Dauphin. 

. The eldest brother of the King, Comte de 
Provence, afterwards Louis XVIII. 

. The Prince de Conde, head of the House 
of Conde. 

. The Due de Bourbon, the eldest son of the 
Prince de Conde (and the father of 
the Due d'Enghien shot by Napoleon). 

. The Grand Equerry under the ancien re- 
gime. 

. The First Equerry under the ancien re- 
gime. 

. The royal children. 

. Sisters or daughters of the King, or Prin- 
cesses near the Throne (sometimes 
used also for the wife of Monsieur, 
the eldest brother of the King, the 
Princesses Adelaide, Victoire, Sophie, 
Louise, daughters of Louis XV., and 
aunts of Louis XVI.) 

. The Princesse Elizabeth, sister of Louis 
XVI. 

, The Princesse Marie Therese, daughter of 
Louis XVI., afterwards Duchesse 
d'Angouleme. 

. The daughter of Monsieur, the brother of 
■ the King. 



-I - ' !__ ' ^ ^ 



c 



^ 



POSTSCRIPT 
BY THE PUBLISHERS 

No edition of Madame Campan's Memoirs having been 
issued in England since the early part of this century^ oppor- 
tunity has been taken in printiiig. the present edition to add 
notes occasionally from some of the works which have been 
published since that date, which throw a new light on many 
of the circumstances narrated by Madame Ca?npan, and for 
which notes the Publishers desire to express their acknowledg- 
ments to Colonel Phipps, R.A. 



New Burlington Street, 
October 1883. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS I 



019 620 496 9 










m 

''''lift 

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